


Pressed Violet

by TheSinfulwolf



Series: The Morrigan's Wolf [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, England - Freeform, F/F, Healer, Healing, Irish, Magic, Magical Fox, Medieval Medicine, Morrigan - Freeform, Romance, Saxon - Freeform, Strap-Ons, Swords, Violence, Witch - Freeform, mercia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinfulwolf/pseuds/TheSinfulwolf
Summary: Aedwen, a Saxon healer, finds Riona, an Irish witch, washed up wounded on the shore of a lake. By taking her in she might find the key to her own broken heart, but she has unleashed a storm upon her village that none may survive. Riona may be the only one who can save them all, despite the superstition of the village.
Series: The Morrigan's Wolf [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047307
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	1. Washed Ashore

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is a sequel to "Lover's Glade", set many years after, and that one is not required reading to enjoy this one. Do note that there is some strong violence in this story, and the smut doesn't begin until Chapter 2. I hope you enjoy my tale of Historical Fantasy set in the isles of Britannia during the Dark Ages.

The breeze was soft against her skin as Aedwen walked along the well worn path through the forest. The grass stained hem of her skirt brushed against the few flowers poking richly coloured petals out from the undergrowth as she hummed quietly to herself. A soft bark from the side caught her attention and Aedwen turned, wincing slightly when the back of her dress brushed over too familiar itches.

Lips curled into a smile, Aedwen watched a young fox leaping up onto a log to study her. It cocked its head, its brilliant fur stood out against the soft green and brown of the forest. She found herself waving at it, before it let out a playful bark and leapt off the log. Aedwen smiled for a minute, puzzled, and stepped down the path when she noticed the fox had paused and was looking at her.

With another bark, it took a few steps then stopped, and sat there in the underbrush and stared.

“Want me to follow?” she asked, and the fox barked again. Aedwen laughed to herself and stepped off the path and moved into the forest. Her eyes strayed along the woodland floor, checking for any of the plants she had come out here to gather to begin with.

The fox led her deeper, until sunlight became but beams that pierced through the canopy. She didn’t see any of the plants she needed, but ahead the trees opened into a broad clearing, with a pile of moss covered boulders on one edge. Brilliant bright orange flowers with a bright white centre had sprung up among the grass, and Aedwen couldn’t help but smile. She’d been looking for fox foot for months now; amusing who had led her to it.

The fox leapt up onto one of the boulders and poked its head down on the other side. It was enough to make Aedwen pause and tilt her head, and curious enough to cross the meadow and move around the rock. She let her fingers run over the moss until she found what the fox was looking at.

Carved into one side of the boulder was a small shrine, discoloured and worn at the edges by age. The small statue in the centre displayed one the ancient Goddesses of the Isles. She ran her fingers along the iron base of the shrine, feeling the pits from corrosion in the metal. Aedwen's eyes grew wide with wonder.

“I may not worship you. But thank you,” she said to the icon of the Goddess Mori... something. She wished she could recall. She did remember old tales speaking of offerings though. So, reaching in the pouch hanging from her shoulder, she pulled out a carefully pressed flower of violet petals. A gift once given to her, now to something higher.

Mildreth would have been happy Aedwen liked to think, and felt tears welling in her eyes as she put the flower on the shrine. Hands clasped together, she bowed her head, and tried not to think of the sensation of Mildreth’s lips on her shoulder. Of those last lingering touches to her cheek.

Through the wet glide of tears, Aedwen lifted her head to see the flower was gone. She blinked, looking around in case the wind had blown it, but felt her attention pulled upwards to the call of a raven. It was perched atop the pile of boulders, its black eyes stared at her.

The flower clutched in its beak.

It let out its call again, the flower fluttering down before the bird caught it. It tilted its head once more before its wings snapped out and it took off into the sky. Aedwen watched it until it disappeared, wiping her palms across her face. Until a bump against her leg had her eyes turning downwards.

The fox let out a small chitter, and bumped its head against her leg again. Aedwen laughed and knelt, before she ran her fingers through the fur between its ears.

“And thank you too,” Aedwen said, and the fox let out a happy sounding chitter as Aedwen rose to her feet.

The fox took a few steps before it jumped up into the air, and bounced off the ground, making the woman laugh as she watched. Soon though, the fox ran off into the forest, its orange coat vanishing amid the rays of sun streaming through the trees.

Wiping at her cheeks again and lips still curled into a smile, Aedwen moved into the centre of the meadow and pulled her small knife from its sheath at her hip. Kneeling, she began to carefully dig the fox foot flowers from the ground, ensuring she got the roots as intact as she could. She shook off the excess dirt, and put each one carefully inside her satchel.

After she’d pulled six from the ground she took out her map to mark the meadow upon it. She’d have to come back in a few weeks time in case Beyhild hadn’t recovered. She glanced up to the sky, and took note that the sun hadn’t quite reached its zenith. Aedwen got to her feet and brushed off her dress. She made her way back to the path; she still had some way to go to get some nettles.

And lavender for Sibert’s insomnia, she reminded herself.

When she reached the path again she wasn’t humming. Instead her mind was back in the meadow. Back where that raven had carried away Mildreth’s flower.

When she found the patch of lavender she often frequented by the lake side, Aedwen set about her task with silence. The sun warmed her back, and the breeze carrying the lavender’s scent caressed her skin.

After she pushed a bushel of the purple flowers into her satchel, she turned to stare out across the lake, and watched the gentle ripples from the breeze and the glinting sunlight upon its surface. It stretched out for at least a league, with the forest ending half way around its shores, turning to rolling hills and swaying grass.

Taking a seat on the side of the hill the lavender grew upon, Aedwen hugged her knees to her chest as the flowers’ scent wafted over her. Mildreth had shown her this place. It had been here they’d shared their first kiss. The first time they’d made love. Aedwen didn’t cry this time, but only smiled as she remembered playing silly games fit for children on this lake’s shores. They had been fully grown women, and had often ended their silly play naked and in each other’s arms.

Running her eyes along the shoreline, she remembered chasing Mildreth along its length, her gaze settled upon a figure laying face down upon the rocky shore, legs still in the waters, covered in a dark green cloak.

“Oh God,” Aedwen called out, her memories burst like smoke as she got to her feet and ran down to the stranger. As she got closer, she saw crimson washed away by the lapping waters.

The figure was a woman, tall, with a warrior’s build.

Strands of dark red hair had slipped from the hood of the cloak. She was clad in riding boots, trousers, and what looked to be a short sleeved tunic of mail covered in a wolf pelt on the back. Bracers of near black steel covered her forearms, but Aedwen’s eyes couldn’t help but trace the hard ridges of her biceps. The sword sheathed at her hip certainly led to the belief that she was a warrior.

Aedwen rolled the woman over, and took a brief look at her sharp and striking face. The woman’s eyes were closed, and her lips starting to turn blue. Cursing, Aedwen knelt down, cheek next to the woman’s cool lips and nose. She felt warm breath on her skin and let out a sigh of relief before she began checking the body.

She found broken links of mail along the side of the woman’s chest, where blood seeped through the metal. Carefully reaching through the break, Aedwen pushed through a layer of leather and soaked quilted padding before they found a nasty gash. Hot blood washed over her exploring fingers, and Aedwen cursed. She looked around desperately, even shouted out for help, but of course no one replied.

Cursing to herself, she pulled the larger woman into a sit, grunting with effort as she did so. The woman let out a groan, her fingers twitched.

“Come on, wake up. This’ll be much easier,” Aedwen said, one hand on the woman’s shoulder to try and keep her in place. The other went low to try and lift that mail tunic by feel, she took note of the pair of roses tattooed on her neck, with thorny vines crawling up to her ear.

A twig snapped somewhere behind her and Aedwen turned her head to see movement in the forest.

“Help. I need help over here,” she called, before her eyes widened as six men in white robes emerged from the forest, their heads shaved clean though one or two had long beards. In their hands were an array of axes and clubs, but they bore nothing else. Brothers of the Fish; zealots, murderers, spouting the name of God without understanding his teachings.

“Get away from her girl,” the one in the front said, his beard mostly grey, his voice harsh as he pointed his axe towards her.

“She needs help. Not an execution,” Aedwen called.

“She’s a witch, she deserves to be burned. But I’ll do with taking her head,” the lead brother said as the other five fanned out behind him. They moved slowly, cutting off any escape, and Aedwen watched them.

Carefully she laid the stranger back down, and heard a low groan of pain from her. As Aedwen stood she pulled out her knife, not sure exactly what she was planning on doing. But she couldn’t live with herself if these bastards killed someone under her care.

Not again.

“You would throw your lot in with her? She’s a whore of the Devil,” the lead brother said, as he pulled his axe into a two-handed grip, and flexed his knuckles around the haft.

“I can’t let you do this,” Aedwen said, her hands shook at her sides while her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at their leader.

“Have it your way. If you have sympathy for the devil, your soul belongs in Hell,” he said, and started running towards her, lifting the axe above his head.

A scream tore from her throat, as she realized she was about to die. Aedwent lifted her knife and clenched her eyes shut. A shiver coursed down her back as she waited for the bite of the axe in her skull. Until a woman’s voice reached her ears and a choked sound came from just in front of her.

Daring to open her eyes again, Aedwen saw the lead brother standing there, axe above his head, eyes wide with pain. Dark bruises had formed on his neck, and bone poked against the skin. He made another choked sound, and blood sprayed from his lips, before his fingers twisted with brittle snaps. The axe fell from his ruined grip, and landed at the edge of the rocks with a crack. Then the man’s hip popped, his knee twisted and he fell to a wretched ball on the ground.

“Foul witch,” one of the others shouted and rushed forward, and that cloaked figure of the stranger moved past Aedwen. Her hood had fallen back, long red tresses plastered to her skull as she met the charge of this second zealot monk.

The man’s club swung for the stranger’s head, but her sword sliced upwards. A scream tore from the man as his arm was sheared at the elbow, the sword’s downward swing caught his other wrist and severed his hand. Both the club and the man fell to the ground to join his limbs. He tried to crawl away, while blood gushed from the stumps, but the woman took a step forward and planted her foot in the small of his back. The man cried out, and the others charged in.

The woman spoke, but not in Anglo-Saxon. Her words carried on the wind, as her hand waved behind her. Her brilliant green eyes flared before the scream of crows caught Aedwen’s attention. She looked up in time to see a flock of crows descending upon the other monks. Black beaks and talons tore at their faces, ripped into their flesh as they waved their weapons frantically.

One of the monks was felled by a brother’s axe that struck him across the jaw. Blood and teeth sprayed as he fell to the crimson slick rocks, clutching at the ruins of his face. Another of them fell back, his weapon dropped as his eye was pulled from its socket.

Aedwen turned and retched. Bile and the remains of her breakfast spilled across the rocks as the stranger plunged her sword downwards. The steel sank into the back of the man under her foot. Cleaved between ribs and into his heart. As his struggles stilled, the woman lunged at the others. The crows flew from her, and the next monk had the tip of her blade rip upwards from his hip to his rib cage. Entrails spilled outwards and he desperately tried to pack them back in as blood flowed over his fingers.

The woman moved to another man as Aedwen leaned against her own thighs. She looked upwards in time to see the stranger’s blade crash down into a man’s shoulder. Aeadwen heard the crack of the bones snapping, before the blade broke through more ribs and into the zealot’s chest. With a swift kick to the monk’s gut, the stranger pushed the corpse off her blade to crash hard on the rocks.

The woman stood in the wake of her violence, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, one hand upon the break in her armour. The wind seemed to howl in the descended quiet. She glanced to where the man whose eye had been pulled free was trying to crawl back to the woods, mewling to himself.

She barked something in her language again, either Pictish or Gaelic; Aedwen couldn’t be sure. She stepped behind the man on his knees, who desperately tried to push his guts back in. A single swing of her sword took his head off. It fell forward into the greasy pile of his intestines. His white robes stained crimson.

Aedwen couldn’t help but watch with morbid fascination as the stranger moved to the man on the ground still clutching at his jaw. His tongue flapped against the side of his neck as he tried to re-arrange his own face. The stranger made his death come quicker by plunging her sword into his side, and stilling his struggles.

Silent, Aedwen’s eyes turned to the man crawling away. She tried to find sympathy for them, for once she believed that no person ever deserved the ruthlessness that had been visited upon these brothers.

She saw Mildreth’s eyes then, heard her screams, as her flesh peeled away from the flames. Aedwen could find no sympathy for these monsters.

“One’s getting away,” she told the stranger, wiping bile from her lips.

The woman shook her head, before her lips moved as words from that foreign language of hers spilled out. Her hand waved towards the forest as the man crawled into the undergrowth.

The sound of creaking wood was soon drowned out by desperate screams which cut off violently, leaving only the wet rending of flesh.

Breathing heavily, the stranger's hand fell back to clutch her wound as she stared at the forest. Aedwen spat on the ground, clearing out the last few bits of vomit and wiped her hands on her sleeves. She needed a drink.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” the woman said, her Anglo-Saxon heavily accented.

Aedwen spat again. The stranger’s accent was Irish, so she could guess that’s where the woman was from. What in God’s name brought her here?

“Those bastards deserved what you gave them,” Aedwen said, and the woman turned to her fully. The beauty of her almost elfin features and rich green eyes off-put by the blood spattered across her skin.

“Perhaps I should take solace then, in that you didn’t enjoy the sight,” the stranger said, and Aedwen glanced down at her vomit among the rocks, slowly lapped away by the lake’s gentle waves.

“Why are the Brotherhood after you? They called you a witch, and while that is a common accusation I just watched you call in spells,” Aedwen asked, and the woman shrugged, which made her stumble slightly. Aedwen hurried to prevent her from falling, grunting at the weight of the armored warrior in her arms. Carefully she helped the stranger to her knees.

“I think you just answered your own question. You can trust your eyes,” The woman said with a wince as she pulled her hand from her side and looked at her own blood glistening upon her fingers.

“Let's discuss this later. Right now I need to get you to my village. I’m a healer. I can help you,” Aedwen said. The stranger let out a bitter laugh as she sat back on her heels, and reached to one of the pouches on her belt.

“Better you don’t. There will be more of the bastards, and I’d rather not have you burned at the stake alongside me,” the stranger said as she pulled a cloth from the pouch. Carefully she ran it along her blade, and Aedwen couldn’t help but watch. Only Maetheld had a sword in their village and it was very plain. This one was forged of some darkened steel, with Celtic runes engraved along the edges of the blade. The woman had to dip her fingers into the fuller to get out all the blood, but soon it was clean and she carefully put it away.

“At least if you come with me, you’ll have a chance not to burn at the stake. And kill more of them,” Aedwen said, and the woman let out a small humourless laugh.

“A lot of rage for a good Christian woman.”

“I’ve seen what can be described as a good Christian. My rage doesn’t come close. Now, lift your tunic. Let me see that wound,” Aedwen said., The woman glanced at her sidelong, before sighing. She untied the cord of her cloak first and set it aside before she bent down to slip out of her armour. Aedwen watched with fascination, noting the grey wolf pelt stitched through the mail and into a layer of leather on the underside of the metal links.

Of course, the witch was getting stuck; she struggled with her wound, so Aedwen helped pull off the garment of steel, leather, and fur. Then helped with the short sleeved black gambeson as well, short work with the ties down the front of the padding. Beneath that was a simple grey tunic that showed the softer curves of her form. It was soaked red around the gash, and clinging to the woman’s skin.

Aedwen, blew out a breath and loosened the cords at the woman’s chest in order to easily lift it up.

“We don’t have time for this, we need to move,” the witch said, even as she raised her arms above her head.

“If we don’t bind that wound, you won’t be going anywhere, so let me ply my trade,” Aedwen admonished, as she lifted the garb upwards. She set the tunic aside and turned her eyes upon the witch. Top half only clad in simple wraps for her bust, her body rippled with the hard ridges of muscle; this woman seemed to be forged for battle. No wonder she had made such brutal work of the zealots.

Her eyes found their way to the Celtic swirls and knots tattooed from the witch’s elbows to her shoulders, inching over to her shoulder blades. Aedwen had to resist reaching out to touch them.

Reaching into her satchel instead, Aedwen dug around the bundles of collected plants to find the bandages she always kept at the bottom.

“What happened here anyway?” Aedwen asked as she pulled out the strips of linen.

The stranger turned her head slightly. Those dark red locks slid over her shoulders, spilled down her back to the base of her shoulder blades.

“I was... hunting, when those Brothers found me. They had been tipped off by a priest at a nearby village. They ambushed me, I killed most of them,” the woman said. Aedwen could guess whatever this woman was hunting, it was not boar or deer, but she did not press. “That was last night. Got into a boat and tried to paddle across the lake, but they had archers and slingers. Had to tip over the boat for cover. At some point, I must have passed out.”

Aedwen started wrapping the strips of linen around her. She could smell the lake in the woman’s hair, the blood on her skin, while she got the bandages tight. She heard the close lipped grunt of pain as the woman clutched at the hilt of her sword.

“That’ll help. For now. But we need to get you back to my home. I can stitch it there, make sure it doesn’t get infected,” Aedwen said, and the woman glanced at her.

“You really are a healer then?” she asked, and Aedwen nodded, and the woman sighed, relaxing her grip on her sword. She pulled her tunic back on before holding up a hand. Aedwen smiled, glad this stranger relented. Helping her up, she also picked up the gambeson and mail.

“Follow me then. We have some ways to go, so let me know if you need a rest,” Aedwen said, earning a frown from the woman, but Aedwen met her gaze evenly until the woman nodded.

Slowly, they started walking, moving towards the forest. Past the small hill bristling with lavender where she and Mildreth had made love. She looked at the spot with a sad smile before she took note of a fox’s head poking out from a patch of lavender. It let a happy little yip sound, before it pulled back into the tall flowers. Perhaps Mildreth was still with her after all.

Aedwen wiped at the tears that threatened to spill as she led her new companion onto the path and into the shade of the forest. They were not far in when Aedwen looked off to the side and found the monk that had fled.

“Don’t,” the stranger warned, but it came too late, as Aedwen beheld the body suspended between three trees.

Thick branch like vines had rammed through his chest and face, and broken ribs protruded from the wound. Shards of bone were embedded in the wood amid the globs of viscera. One arm had been ripped out of his shoulder and dangled a few feet above, swaying in the cool breeze, while blood dripped from the fingertips. It was a ghastly totem to violence that had been a man not so long ago.

Despite her hatred, Aedwen had to turn her head away and keep walking. The stranger was silent.

“He deserved it,” Aedwen ended up saying bitterly, and felt the stranger’s eyes upon her.

“They hurt you,” the woman said softly.

“They killed her,” Aedwen said, but the woman didn’t press. So they walked together in silence, a slow pace along the well worn path that had seemed so peaceful earlier this morning.

Eventually, the woman grudgingly called for a rest. She moved off to the side, and sat against a tree with a wince. Aedwen set down the armour she’d been carrying, and settled in next to the woman, searching for the waterskin at her belt. She took a sip, then handed it to her companion.

“I’m Aedwen, by the way,” she said, thinking of how annoyed her mother would be that she had taken this long to introduce herself.

There was a pause for a few heartbeats as the woman took a long pull from the water skin before handing it back. Still for a moment she didn’t speak.

“Riona,” she finally said.

“So Riona. You are a witch? I saw you, that was magic,” Aedwen said, and Riona laughed.

“I suppose I am. I worship different Gods than they do, or you I suppose. Older Gods. A priestess I may have been once, a warrior. Now, just a witch,” she said.

“Let me guess. Harlot of the devil and all that?” Aedwen said.

“Aye. I’ve dedicated myself to the Morrighan, among others. In this new world dominated by the Church, that’s close enough to the Devil for them I suppose. As to Harlot well... I’ve yet to take a man to my bed,” Rionna said, and Aedwen glanced at her. The witch stared ahead for a few moments, before she turned to regard the healer.

“Guessing by that look. Neither have you,” Riona said, and Aedwen found herself blushing and looking away. But after a second of hesitation she nodded.

“The woman you mentioned before. The one the brotherhood had killed. She was your lover,” Riona said and Aedwen sighed, nodding again.

“Last year, we were out by the lake. Right where I had found you. We had just made love, and were laying there. I got up eventually to gather some herbs, and that’s when the brothers spotted us. They came at us, cornered us,” Aedwen paused, bowed her head and felt the tears starting to rise.

“They called us harlots. Sinners. They were going to kill us, but Mildreth said she had bewitched me. That she had corrupted my soul and theirs would be next.,” she continued, the tears starting to flow now as she hugged her knees to herself. She felt the pain in her back again, not just as itching this time.

“She... started to speak in... gibberish, waved her hands at them. The first strike of their clubs hit her head. I watched her collapse, without even a wail. Just fell to the ground, her eyes rolling back. I remember screaming, how they pinned me to the ground. Told me they were going to save me from this wicked seductress. They kicked her, they beat her with their clubs. I remember the blood just gushing from her head, the bruises along her ribs. Then... they bound us both. Her to a mule, and me to walk behind. They took us to our village... and... and they...” Aedwen’s head fell between her knees, and her body shook with violent sobs.

Hot tears spilled down her face as the memories pushed their way back upwards. Mildreth’s naked body without a sound coming from her lips. The dark bruises that had formed across her ribs and back. Her beautiful golden hair clumped against her head with her own blood. Her lower lip split near in two, her nose sideways and gushing crimson, one eye swollen shut.

Then an arm slid around her, and Aedwen nearly jumped. She looked up with blurry eyes to see Riona. The Irish witch pulled her close, and Aedwen clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder. Riona didn’t say a single word, only sat there as Aedwen wailed out her agony as she clutched at the witch’s tunic.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. She didn’t bother to try and look through the canopy. She kept herself in the one armed embrace, and took comfort in the other woman’s heat.

Eventually she managed to still her sobs, until no more tears flowed. She sniffled, and rubbed the back of her hand against her running nose, realizing now the snot she’d gotten on Riona’s shoulder. The witch said nothing about it though.

“Shall we continue?” she asked instead, and Aedwen looked up with a start as she remembered the witch’s wound. She nodded weakly and got to her feet, helping her companion up as well.

As they started walking again, Aedwen hugged Riona’s armour tight against her. She looked ahead, mind flipping between what those bastards had done to Mildreth, and what Riona had done to them. What she had done to those vile, evil men. If she were a witch, how could she be so wicked if she killed monsters?

“They burned her. In front of the village,” Aedwen eventually said as they moved through streams of sunlight beneath the rustling leaves of the forest. Riona looked at her, but said nothing. Aedwen was strangely thankful for it. It reminded her of those nights she and Mildreth would spend together, when she would just listen.

“They made us build the pyre and kept me on my knees in front of it. She was drooling as they put her up on the stake, they had hit her so hard. I... her mother, Maetheld, they held her down, made her watch. Called her a failure of a mother as they lit the pyre. They had axes out, ready to strike anyone down if they resisted. So we all watched as Mildreth was burned. And I... I was just thankful to not be where she was, even as I felt my heart tearing apart,” Aedwen managed, not even feeling her footsteps.

She’d yet to really talk to anyone about it since. They all just looked at her with sympathy, except for Maetheld. Maetheld refused to talk to her.

“They are monsters. Not men of your God, no matter what they claim. Take solace in that their souls are with my Goddess now. And she is less forgiving,” Riona said, and Aedwen found herself nodding.

“Good. They deserve all the misery that they have sown,” Aedwen said, and the pair of them fell into quiet again, trodding along the shady pathway for over an hour until the woods opened again. Opened to the distant rolling hills across the river her village was nestled beside. Golden fields of swaying wheat and flax engulfed them.

The path the two women moved along cut right through those fields. Through the tall stalks to the gate in the tall fence surrounding the village. Even from here Aedwen could see the thatched roofs of the homes and the wooden planks of the chief’s large hall. Children were playing in the fields, laughing and running with their games. Fishermen were coming down the river with their hauls, and lumberjacks were returning with logs taken from the forest’s bounty.

The two women got closer, and Riona watched the strangers all with a nervous eye. Her hand was still clamped to her side, and her footsteps slowed to little more than a crawl. Aedwen had to get her to her home, had to get that wound properly treated.

As they approached the gates, farmers in the fields stopped their work to watch them pass with suspicion in their eyes. Running and shouting children stopped to gawk. Aedwen was sure they were all remembering the woman dragged naked in front of them, said to have been bewitched by one of their own. She kept her eyes ahead, and moved closer to Riona, taking some small comfort from the witch’s presence.

She wasn’t even sure why.

As they entered the village through the fence’s gate, more stopped to watch the pair of them. While Aedwen kept her eyes straight ahead, along the paths that led to her home, Riona’s gaze flickered among the gathering of villagers. She could see fear in their stares. Confusion, and even hints of anger. But not one said anything as Aedwen guided the pair of them to a house of wood, the thatch roof perched well above the ground. Unlike the deep slope of the two beside it, whose roofs managed to nearly touch the ground on either side of the home.

Aedwen stepped ahead, and opened the door. Riona stumbled through the door. The witch’s vision swam a moment and Aedwen rushed to her side. She slipped under one arm, and managed to catch her weight across her shoulders.

“Come on, over here on the bed,” Aedwen directed, and Riona glanced about the singular room of the house. She took note of the four beds within, three of them tucked against one wall, the fourth at the opposite side of the room; A healer’s home indeed. The witch let herself be guided to one of the three, and found herself wincing as she was lowered onto the mattress of linen wrapped straw.

“Alright, let’s get that tunic off again, and I can properly dress that wound,” Aedwen said, helping Riona remove the dark garment before laying her back.

Once Riona was looking up at the ceiling, Aedwen scurried about her home, collecting tools, bandages, and poultices for her work. Riona listened as she closed her eyes, one knee cocked upwards as she laid there. She tried not to think of her failed hunt, or of what coming here might bring upon this village. A village that had already suffered because of the Brotherhood.

The sound of metal on flint came from the home’s centre, then soft blowing. Riona shifted slightly, in time to see a fire coming to life in a small pit. The smoke curled upwards, gathering in the ceiling.

“Could have asked for some help,” Riona said.

“How would you have hel... oh, right,” Aedwen said as she looked up at the witch a moment, before she went back to her work. Riona shifted back, laying comfortably before she heard footsteps approaching

“Alright then. Just, don’t move,” Aedwen said as she returned and knelt beside her patient. Riona’s eyes flicked down to regard the woman beside her with a knife in her hand.

“Don’t slip,” Riona said as she felt the edge of the knife against her skin as it slid beneath the bandages that were soaking through, the crimson spreading like a flower from the gash in her side.

Aedwen said nothing as she cut, then pulled away the bandages she’d already applied. Her fingers explored the wound gingerly, a quiet curse spilled from her lips as she saw the damage. She let out a sigh as she gathered a thin thread and a needle.

“This will hurt,” Aedwen warned.

“I guessed it would,” Riona said, before she hissed as boiled wine was poured over the wound, steaming red liquid running into the gash. She bared her teeth to the ceiling, before Aedwen used a cloth to wipe away most of the blood.

Then the needle pressed into her flesh, and pulled through to the other side of the wound. Riona couldn’t stop from letting out another hiss of pain as Aedwen continued along the gash, until the wound was closed. When she reached the end, she leaned in to bite off the excess thread and tied it off. She poured more boiled wine over the wound and patted it clean.

“Well, at least you’re one of my least whiny patients,” Aedwen said, and Riona couldn’t help laughing softly.

“I aim to please,” the witch said, and Aedwen glanced up at the woman. Aedwen kept her eyes upon the sharp cut on the woman’s jaw. She sat for a moment, before she turned her attentions back to the wound as she picked up a bottle.

“This is just a poultice. It’ll help with the healing,” Aedwen said, as she scraped a damp paste from the inside with her knife. She carefully pressed it against the wound, before wrapping fresh bandages around Riona’s middle.

“Damn cold,” Riona said quietly. Aedwen tied off the bandages, making sure they were tight enough to do their task.

“It’s not magic, but it should do the trick. Stave off infection,” Aedwen said while she got to her feet and wiped her hands across the lap of her dress. Small smears of blood and the remains of the poultice added to the faded stains already present.

“In the meantime, get some proper sleep,” Aedwen said, moving across the room to a cupboard and tossing a log on the fire as she passed it.

“Wake me if anything happens,” Rionna said, letting her eyes close.

Aedwen watched her a moment from across the room. Watched the woman’s mouth slacken, and within but a few moments, heard the soft snores of sleep. As she rubbed at her own eyes, Aedwen almost felt jealous. But she couldn’t collapse on her own bed just yet; with how many people saw her bringing the stranger here, the chief would have questions.

Especially after what happened last year.

So, picking up the bucket by the doorway, Aedwen left her home to go down to the river.

><><

Walking back from the river, full bucket of water held in one hand, Aedwen spotted the small group of warriors coming from the village’s Hall. Maetheld was among them, her expression looked stern even from the distance.

The warriors all had their swords at their hips, shields across their backs, though they were dressed in simple tunics and trousers. Maetheld though did not have a shield, only her sword. The creases of her face deepened as she frowned as she spotted Aedwen returning to her home.

Letting out a sigh, Aedwen set down the bucket, a little water splashing over the edges. As she stood, Aedwen crossed her arms and waited outside the door of her home. She had become far too aware of the many eyes of the villagers upon her. She didn’t let herself turn to regard them, instead she focused on the warriors that approached. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to look upon the weathered features of her dead lover’s mother.

Then the four warriors were in front of her, their arms crossed, with Maetheld in front of them, one hand upon the hilt of her sword. Only now did Aedwen let her eyes slip up to her, and felt her arms uncurling until her hands folded in front of herself.

“Aedwen,” Maetheld said, the first time the healer had heard her name pass those lips in over a year.  
She took in a deep breath, and closed her eyes a moment, before lifting her chin to look at the woman before her. She said nothing though, but waited for the next words.

“Who’s in your home? I’ve been told you brought a stranger here. A warrior, and wounded, guessing from the armour, and the blood on her garb. I don’t know of any wars nearby, and I won’t take any raiders under our hospitality,” Maetheld said. Aedwen sighed and glanced at the door before forcing her eyes back to Maetheld.

She had been fooling herself with any small hopes that there would be reconciliation between her and the old warrior. That there would be any path to healing the wounds carved a year ago.

“A wanderer. I found her washed on the shore of the lake, wounded. By God I couldn’t let her bleed to death,” Aedwen said.

“And who wounded her? Why? What trouble are you inviting to our home Aedwen? Again,” Maetheld said, and Aedwen winced, tilting her face downwards. She looked at her feet, at the small damp patch in the soil from the spilled water.

“The Brotherhood of the Fish. They accused her of witchcraft,” she said, and saw Maetheld’s fingers clench tightly around the hilt of her sword at the edge of vision. Her heart pounded in her chest as silence grew between them a moment.

“The Brotherhood... and you’ve brought a witch here,” Maetheld said, her words clipped.

“An accused witch,” Aedwen said.

“They do not see a damned difference between fact and accusation. How do you not understand this? After you sat there and watched my little girl be burned. How many more are you willing to get killed?” Maetheld said, her fingers tight enough around the hilt of her blade that her knuckles were white.

“I don’t want to get anyone killed. I want to save them. That’s why I brought her here, because I wasn’t going to let them kill her there, on the side of the lake,” Aedwen said, as tears fell down her cheeks unbidden.

“They were there? They saw you? And they let you go?” Maetheld said, eyes widened in surprise.

“No. She, killed them all,” Aedwen said, and Maetheld’s eyes turned to the closed door of Aedwen’s home. Hiding the witch within.

“She killed them. So not only are they hunting her for dalliances with the devil, they want revenge. God damnit Aedwen,” Maetheld said.

“She doesn’t worship the Devil,” Aedwen said as hands fell to her sides. Her vision blurred with tears even as she looked up to the woman before her.

“Again Aedwen. Those bastards don’t care. They burned my little girl alive in front of us, and they’ll come here again to burn whoever it is that’s in your home,” Maetheld said.

“Then I’ll leave and take her with me. You can say you banished me,” Aedwen said.

“You would abandon everyone here that needs you, for a stranger.”

“Yes. You, and everyone else here, you say you need me, but won’t talk to me. Won’t look me in the eye. Just take my remedies and healings then go back to whispering that perhaps I should have burned instead of her. I won’t stand by and watch as they do to someone else, what they did to Mildreth.”

“Don’t you say her name,” Maetheld’s hand lifted enough to show the gleam of steel beneath the guard of her sword. The other warriors fanned out, ready for a fight, and Aedwen was disgusted with them all. She turned to face one, and spat on the ground at his feet.

“I loved her too. You weren’t the only one to lose someone that day. Nor am I the one to let those bastards’ evil fester my heart,” she said first to Maetheld and turned to the warrior she’d spat at.

“Ulfrid. I helped your wife with her pregnancy despite her troubles. I helped your sister with the sickness she had two years ago. Yet despite that you’re willing to cut me down because this loveless bitch pulls her sword a bit?” Aedwen said, and the man had the shame to blush, his face turning to the side, and Aedwen looked to the next man.

“Tancred. When your son broke his arm climbing trees, who took care of him? Who made sure it was set properly and didn’t get infected?” she demanded of him, and his head slumped, but no words came from him. Her eyes went to the others, and they couldn’t meet hers. So instead Aedwen looked back to Maetheld. She wasn’t able to read the expression on her face.

“And you. You would dare accuse me of abandoning people who depend on me, when I suffered this whole year alone? You wouldn’t even look at me, wouldn’t say one word. I know you’re hurting but so am I, and yet you’ve not been alone,” Aedwen was shouting by the end, her hands curled into fists at her sides.

Then Maetheld’s face moved to the side, looking at the closed door to Aedwen’s home. She let out a sigh, and her fingers slowly relaxed.

“Go. Start getting prepared for an attack,” Maetheld told the warriors around her. They nodded, solemn, and turned away, striding into the village. Maetheld stood there a moment, before closing her eyes. A single tear glided down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the words a mere whisper, and Aedwen’s hands uncurled from their fists. She stood there watching this woman, and was sure now that she’d never properly let herself mourn.

“Sorry isn’t going to heal anything. It’s been a year,” Aedwen said and watched Maetheld take a deep breath. She turned then to Aedwen, and pulled her into a hug. The healer’s eyes widened, and tentatively she let her arms wrap around the older woman.

“Nothing will heal what they’ve taken from me... from us. And nothing will earn forgiveness for abandoning you. But you are all I have left of her. I can’t let them take you. Not now,” Maetheld whispered softly, then kissed the top of Aedwen’s head.

“They won’t. We have you, and we have Riona. She’ll fight,” Aedwen said, and Maetheld pushed her to arms length, to study her.

“Tell me Aedwen. Tell me true. We’ve become paranoid, fearful, because of them. But is she... is she a witch?”

Remembering all that had happened on the lake side; the blood she had shed, Aedwen knew it would be revealed soon enough.

“Yes. She worships the old gods of Ireland. She has magic,” Aedwen admitted and watched Maetheld’s eyes, waited for this to all turn around on her again. But the aging warrior just nodded, both hands resting on Aedwen’s shoulders.

“So be it,” Maetheld said, as she let her hands drop before she turned to leave. Aedwen watched her a moment.

“We can still flee, me and her. There doesn’t need to be bloodshed,” Aedwen called, and Maetheld turned to look back at her.

“There already has been. So let them come.”

><><

Door closed behind her, Aedwen sank against the wood, and the bucket fell from her grasp. She looked up, her mind a whirlwind, but no tears came this time. She leaned there and listened to the soft crackle of the fire she’d made, and the gentle snores of the woman she’d brought back. She watched Riona a moment, one knee still cocked upwards, one hand resting on her stomach with the other above her head.

A smile flickered across Aedwen’s features as she took a moment to appreciate the witch’s beauty. The way the light played across the ridges of her muscles, of the green and black inks of her tattoos, of her wild locks of dark red hair. She found she was staring, and blushed though no one had caught her. A slight smile curled her lips as she pushed off the door and picked up the bucket.

After setting the water next to her cupboard, Aedwen moved to her patient’s bed and sat beside her. She listened to her breath and was satisfied that there was nothing wrong with it. She put her wrist to Riona’s forehead to feel for any heat, checking her skin for signs of sweat, but there was none, and there was no sign of fever. Aedwen looked to the bandaging, and was happy to see that it hadn’t bled through.

It seemed the witch was going to make a full recovery, and fairly soon.

Then she looked up, and saw those green eyes staring at her.

“Just checking up on you,” Aedwen explained, and Riona nodded.

“And the brotherhood?”

“No sign of them yet. Though I suspect it won’t be long before they come here. Still, the warriors are ready to fight them. They’ve had enough it seems,” Aedwen said.

Riona started to sit upwards with a grunt, but Aedwen put a hand on her chest.

“If I’m staying here, I need to help,” she said pushed against Aedwen’s hand.

“And the brotherhood won’t be here for a bit yet. I can guess at least a few days. There will be work a plenty tomorrow, so rest now,” Aedwen said and pressed harder. Soon enough Riona gave way under her firm hand and lay back again.

“You’re right,” she admitted and blew an errant strand of hair from her face. Aedwen laughed and leaned closer to brush the strand back further.

“I am. Now rest. Tomorrow is a new day,” Aedwen said, rising. As she moved across the room, Riona watched her before her exhausted eyes drifted closed.


	2. Love and Lust

There was fear among the villagers and old anger beneath the surface as they worked. Through the morning, and into the afternoon, they carved stakes to plant into the ground, prepared barricades within the village. They trained in axes, spears, bows, and whatever other weapons they could get their hands on under the supervision of the village’s warriors. Not one of them was willing to sit this fight out. A fight they all knew was coming.

Through it all Aedwen moved about the village offering water alongside the children, tending to blisters, slivers, and small cuts from their work. They all had difficulty meeting her eyes, and Aedwen knew they were remembering that day. Seeing her bound and naked and on her knees as her lover burned. And now that she’d shouted out the truth, they all knew that their healer was indeed a sinner.

At least, in the eyes of the Church if not God.

But at least they were speaking to her now, outside of asking for remedies and healing. Small steps, and Aedwen couldn’t help but grin as she watched the work being put into this place. Readying to defend themselves against a band of murdering bastards that dared claim they fought for God.

And through it all, Riona was among them. Using an axe to sharpen stakes, showing hunters and other bowmen what she knew of the bow, showing the warriors tricks with the blade. They were hesitant of her, especially after she’d openly told them all who and what she was that morning, but even against their own faith they warmed to her. Even Father Leavold, who claimed that “fighting evil men who bore false witness was the justly thing to do”.

When night began to fall, everyone flocked to the wooden church in the centre of the village. When invited, Riona politely declined and wandered down to the river. Gathered among everyone else, Aedwen listened to Leavold lead a prayer for salvation, for the coming peace of the soul and the mind, and for an end to darkness.

When everyone else began to file out to go home and rest before another long day, Leavold called for her to stay.

Despite the glances thrown her way, Aedwen made her way to the front of the church. She listened to the chatter among her neighbours as they filed out into the night, and looked up upon the exquisitely carved crucifix settled behind the altar.

When the door closed, it shut off the voices outside and left only the peaceful quiet of the church. Aedwen crossed herself and turned to face Father Leavold. The only one who’d been by her side this past year. The one who’d comforted her through countless breakdowns, the one who’d known exactly what lay between Mildreth and herself.

“Are you alright?” he started, and Aedwen gave him a sad smile. He simply nodded and moved to the first set of pews and sat down. He patted the seat next to him, and like so many other times, Aedwen sat beside him.

Leaning forward she entwined her fingers and set her elbows upon her thighs. She said nothing for awhile, but Leavold didn’t push. As always, he sat and waited for her to speak.

“I’m afraid father, if I might be honest. I helped Riona, though she is a Pagan. Though she is a self-admitted witch. Everything the church says, says that what I’m doing is wrong. But they say the same of how I felt about Mildreth. And now, I’ve managed to pull everyone into a fight that will get people killed. I never wanted anyone to die,” she said as one foot shook.

“Those who live by the sword, die by the sword Aedwen. These men that come for us, they have forgotten what justice is. They have left the grace of God. As to what you held for Mildreth, that was true. I witnessed every moment, and I’m not sure I’ve seen more pure a love in all my time here. For the church to speak against it... sometimes I fear his holiness the Pope is too separate from the people. So too then, are those that preach on his whim,” Leavold said, then laughed and leaned back.

“You think what we do then is just? That this fight will not deny anyone access to heaven?” Aedwen asked, and Leavold put a comforting hand on her shoulder before she started to rock. She looked over to him, at the graying hairs swept back from his temple. At the white starting to creep into the beard covering his jaw.

“I think that if we are too concerned with whether we deserve to get to heaven, that we lose sight of why we would. Our will is free, and God wants us to use this...” Leavold tapped his head, and then his chest.

“And this, and to decide every day whether to be a good person. We have become too interested in the sins of others, forgetting that Jesus himself said ‘let him without sin cast the first stone.’ We will do what we must here on Earth Aedwen, and hope we will be forgiven. But in this instance... in this instance I know he would grant it.”

Aedwin nodded at his words, taking comfort from them. She glanced again to the crucifix, to the carved expression of the saviour as he was pinned to the cross. The pain there, as he suffered.

“I think I’m starting to fall for her,” Aedwen said, and Leavold nodded.

“The witch.”

“Yes. I’m afraid it’s only lust. Or if it becomes anything more, that I’d be betraying Mildreth,” Aedwen said and lowered her eyes as she felt the comforting squeeze on her shoulder.

“Lust is unavoidable. Anyone that says they are free of it is a liar, and that may well be worse. Many great loves have been founded on lust first. More than have been destroyed by it. But, Mildreth watches from where she is, and I know she wants you to be happy Aedwen. You do not need to forget her, or even move on, but she waits for you, and in the meantime, you have a life to live. You might as well find happiness for yourself while you're here,” Leavold said.

“Even if I don’t deserve it? I let her die after all, why would she wait for me?” Aedwen asked bitterly.

“She saved you. She sacrificed herself that you might live. She wouldn’t want misery for you, she’d want you to be happy. Or else she would not have done what she did. Now you just have to believe that. Her death wasn’t God’s plan, it was hers at the fault of evil men, to save you,” Leavold said.   
Aedwen hesitated, then nodded.

“Follow your heart child. In the next few days we will all be tested, and it’s possible that things may be too late then,” Leavold said, and Aedwen slowly got to her feet.

“Thank you father. For everything,” she said and started to walk towards the church’s exit.

“You can thank me by doing one thing for me,” Leavold said, and Aedwen turned to find him standing, hands slipped into the opposite sleeves of his robes. He had his friendly smile on as he stood before the altar watched her.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Do not let your grief consume you. Live, search for the happiness,” he said, and Aedwen gave a soft smile.

“I’ll certainly try father,” she said and left the church. As the doors closed behind her, cutting off the warm glow of the church’s candlelit interior. Instead, the moon above guided her, for there was scarce a home with a light still on.

She walked down the path to her home, and pushed open the door. Her eyes immediately went to the bed that Riona had been using, but found it empty. Gaze flicking to the other two, then to her own, she sighed; no sign of the woman. She stood there in her open doorway, before she remembered that Riona had gone down to the river.  
She almost took a step inside to crawl into her bed, but she heard a familiar little bark. Turning, she saw a fox; the same fox, she was sure, from before. It looked at her with a tilted head, and Aedwen sank to her knees.

“Mildreth, I’m sorry. I want to be happy, I want her. To feel her lips, to feel her arms wrapped around me. Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she said, and leaned forward until her forehead nearly touched the ground, her hair trailed in the dirt of the path. She wrapped her arms around herself, and cried.

A wet nose pressed against her cheek, before a soft tongue licked at her. Blinking, Aedwen turned her head to find the fox sitting right beside her, staring at her. It tilted its head, and watched.

“How can I betray you?” Aedwen said, not truly sure if she actually believed the fox was her love, but unable to voice it any other way.

The fox nudged her again, its nose cool against the heat of her skin. Then it leapt away. Aedwen stayed as she was; leaned forward, hugging herself, as she watched the animal. It started to trot down towards the river.

It stopped, looked back, and sat.

Slowly, Aedwen got to her feet. The fox let out a happy bark, and spun before it trotted down towards the river again. Aedwen followed it. The fox continually checked behind as it travelled down to the water, between the homes of the village and across the grass. Then it stopped and stared ahead.

Aedwen stepped up beside it and looked down the rest of the hill to the river. She watched the gentle ripples from the breeze, the moonlight glinting off its surface. It was beautiful, and she’d come here often to watch it those times she didn’t make it to the lake.

Kneeling only a few paces from the edge of the river bank, Riona had her naked blade resting in front of her as she stared upwards at the brilliant cascade of stars in the sky. Was she praying? Aedwen almost turned around, until she felt the fox nudge her calf. She glanced down, to see the fox staring up at her. It turned its snout towards Riona kneeling alone beside the river, her hair blowing in the wind.

Eyes closing a moment, Aedwen smiled.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she started down to where Riona knelt. When she was nearly there she glanced back over her shoulder, but the fox was gone. She continued until she stood beside Riona. The witch flicked her gaze over.

“Mind if I join you?” Aedwen asked. Riona smiled and patted the ground.

Aedwen carefully got down onto her knees and looked over at her companion. Watched her hair dance across her shoulders in the wind, studied the rose tattoo on her neck and the sharp cut of her jawline.

“Are you praying?” she asked, and Riona smiled, looking over at the healer. Her skin seemed paler under the moonlight, the freckles dusted across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose stood out starkly.

“I was, before. Now I’m just enjoying the view. I’ve seen it near every night for months now, but I never get tired of it,” Riona said, and Aedwen nodded.

“Good, I didn’t want to interrupt,” Aedwen said, and Riona reached out, taking Aedwen’s hand in her own. Her fingertips were callused, weathered, but they were warm and gentle.

“You wouldn’t have. I’m happy for the company,” Riona said, and Aedwen found her eyes dropped to the woman’s lips. To the faint glisten in the moonlight. To the way they moved as she spoke.

“I never thanked you for saving me,” Riona said, but Aedwen couldn’t pull her gaze from those lips.

“You don’t need to. I couldn’t in good conscience leave you there,” Aedwen said.

“A shame that mindset is so rare in the world,” Riona said as her thumb ran along the back of Aedwen’s knuckles. The healer looked down to watch the motion. Riona didn’t move, save for the gentle sway of her thumb.

Aedwen met Riona’s starkly green gaze. Leaning in, she felt the warm breath across her lips, across her cheeks. She pressed her lips to Riona’s, and was both surprised and thankful the other woman didn’t pull away. Their eyes fluttered closed, and Aedwen let her free hand lift, until fingertips ran along Riona’s cheek as their kiss broke apart.

As their foreheads touched, Riona let both her hands settle on Aedwen’s shoulders. They leaned against one another, while the breeze caressed their skin as they stayed together a few moments. Aedwen watched the woman whose lips glistened from their kiss, and wondered why she didn’t do anything. She just watched with those gorgeous eyes of hers.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Aedwen finally said, and Riona leaned in to kiss her again.

Powerful arms curled around her, pulled her close, as the witch laid her back. She struggled to get her feet out from under her while those soft lips caressed her own. Back laying across the grass, Aedwen let her eyes close, her hands glided along Riona’s sides. Fingertips and palms pushed against the roughspun tunic, gliding it along Riona’s skin as the witch leaned over her. Chest against her own, one elbow beside her head, Aedwen groaned softly.

Fingers slid back downwards, she was careful not to pull the tunic with them. Soon she felt the skin of the woman above her. The woman whose lips parted and whose tongue flickered into their kiss. Aedwen found herself groaning again, lifting the witch’s tunic higher as her mouth opened. Her own tongue invited Riona in. Riona’s heat soaked into her through their garb, and Aedwen longed to feel the breeze on her skin, to feel the press of the woman who was becoming more her lover with each hard brush of lips, each caress of tongue.

Riona straddled the healer, not daring to break the touch of their lips. Sitting up, her hands explored Riona’s back beneath the fabric of her tunic, Aedwen kept her body pressed tight to the witch’s. Then she grabbed the hem of that pesky garment and lifted it upwards. Riona broke the kiss, her tongue dragged along Aedwen’s lips, as she leaned back.

Those green eyes were aflame as Riona stared down at Aedwen before Riona’s arms lifted to let her tunic slide off. Tossing it into the grass, Riona’s fingers slid through Aedwen’s hair, down to her shoulders. The healer ran her gaze along the ridges of her stomach, to the bandage wrapped around. Aedwen paused before she grazed her fingers over the bandages and to the edge of the bindings around Riona’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Riona said, her voice husky as her thumbs gently ran over Aedwen’s neck.

Tongue running down her upper lip, Aedwen unwrapped those bindings. The dark linen gave way to pale skin. As the wraps fell from her fingertips, caught by the breeze and dragged along the grass, Aedwen stared at the bared flesh before her. The dusting of freckles across Riona’s chest. The slope of her breasts, peaked with light pink nipples.

Aedwen leaned in, her eyes closed as her lips parted. She led with her tongue,ran the pink muscle along the under curve of Riona’s breast. A low breath slipped from the witch’s lips, her fingertips ran through Aedwen’s long hair. As long locks glided between her fingers, Riona closed her eyes and tilted her gaze up to the sky. Lips made their way upwards before pulling a nipple between them. A sharp gasp spilled from Riona and Aedwen let her tongue slowly drag along the peak of her lover’s breast.

As she gently pulled Aedwen closer, Riona groaned at the kisses and licks to her bosom. Aedwen ran fingertips along the witch’s back, traced along her spine and spread along the ridges of her shoulder blades. Hips starting to grind downwards, Riona dragged her fingers slowly up the back of Aedwen’s neck. The healer released the nipple between her lips, starting to kiss upwards, tasting Riona’s throat, beneath her chin, before she found her lips. Her nails ran across the other woman’s back, while the witch pushed her tongue into the kiss, drawing a muffled groan.

Riona’s fingers slid downwards, brushing linen against Aedwen’s skin. Down her back until those fingers reached her hips. Their lips still pressed hungrily together, Aedwen let her hands drop to the grass. It was cool against her palms, soft. She lifted her hips, and Riona pulled up on her dress, her shift with it, to reveal the linen stockings beneath. Those fingers gripped at her rump, pulling Aedwen tighter between Riona’s legs. Her dress bunched up over her hips, and Aedwen let herself fall back again.

The kiss broke, and Aedwen eagerly lifted her arms. Riona watched her, the glisten of her lips, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, the hunger in her normally soft brown eyes. Then the dress and shift was pulled upwards and blocked both their views for a moment. The breeze was cool against Aedwen’s bared skin, and she longed for touch again. When the touch of linen slipped from her fingers, Aedwen had already forgotten it. She lunged upwards and found those soft lips again, pushing her tongue between them. Her hands ran across Riona’s back, the feel of skin broken only briefly by the wrapped bandages. The motions pulled their forms close, skin against skin, breasts pressed tight together.

Hands flowed over Riona’s sides, feeling the tight muscle beneath the skin, Aedwen pushed between the pair of them. Her knuckles dragged across Riona’s stomach, until her fingers found her belt. Eagerly she untied the loop, the soft leather pleasant against her fingertips. Once freed, Aedwen nearly threw the belt to the side, the heavy thump of the attached sword striking the ground sounding in her ears. Almost immediately she was untying the laces of Riona’s trousers, and started to push them down off the witch’s hips.

Riona lifted her hips this time, helping Aedwen get her clothes down her legs, before they got caught on her boots. A laugh sounded between their caressing lips and the two women broke away. The witch rolled off her lover, an amused smirk curled her lips as she pulled her knees towards her chest with a pained grunt to struggle with her trousers. Aedwen couldn’t hold in the giggle that bubbled up as she watched as she propped herself on an elbow as Rionna got one leg free, showing the curve of her rump and her surprisingly hairless sex.

“Enjoying the show?” Riona said, laughter in her voice as she managed to get her trousers off the second leg, leaving herself clad in only her boots. Aedwen managed a soft hum of a response as her eyes trailed along the smooth toned legs of the witch stripped bare.

Glancing downwards Aedwen took note of her own shoes, before Riona took her one leg in hand. Gently running her palm along the white linen clad calf, she soon undid the simple lacing of one shoe and pulled it off, letting it tumble down the hill a few paces. As she pulled off the second one, her eyes slid upwards along Aedwen’s body, drank in the vision before her bathed in moonlight.

It had been so long since someone had looked at her like that. She laid back enjoyed those eyes upon her, and held her arms above her head. Riona smiled then started to crawl forward, lips peeled back to show her teeth. To Aedwen she looked like a wolf above its prey, and the healer pulled her lower lip between her teeth. The witch’s hand planted in the grass by Aedwen’s hip. The witch moved upwards, a knee rested now between her lover’s thighs.

Head lowered, Riona’s hair trailed over Aedwen’s stomach. With lips pressed to her skin, Riona’s tongue dipped into her navel. Aedwen watched, feeling those lips starting to journey downward. Then Riona’s tongue slowly ran over her clitoris, and Aedwen tilted her head back with a soft moan, eyes closed.

The witch’s tongue lowered still, spreading the lips of her womanhood, tasting the tart flavour of her arousal, nose trailing through trimmed hair. Gently the slick muscle pushed inwards, and Aedwen let out a louder moan. She clamped a hand over her mouth, remembering only then that they were near naked on the bank of the river. In full view if anyone went for a piss in the night.

Riona’s tongue began to drag inside her, before she moved back up to flick over her clit. Another moan spilled into her hand as those beautiful lips and tongue began to work in perfect concert. Her hips bucked, and her thighs opened wide for the woman between them.

One hand slithered along her body, and ran downwards until her fingers slid through those beautiful locks draped across her stomach and thighs. That delectable tongue was unceasing in its pleasures while Riona’s warm breath cascaded across the slickness from her desire. Aedwen had to bite down on the side of her hand to muffle her moans as Riona’s tongue continued to pleasure her clit. Her hips bucking up with each flick, with each pressing roll.

Aedwen’s back arched. She nearly screamed her pleasure through her teeth pressing tight into her hand. Yet Riona’s tongue didn’t stop, moving back from her sensitive slit to the depths of her sex. Eyes pressed tight, Aedwen’s fingers curled like talons, and dragged across her lover’s scalp. Only then did Riona lift her face from between opened thighs. Her lips and chin glistening, she smiled.

Like a wolf Riona crawled upwards as Aedwen struggled to catch her breath as her eyes opened in time to behold the sight before her. The motion of each muscle displayed the power of her flesh. Predatory, threatening, and Aedwen felt comforted by it. She could only watch as Riona moved above her, before wrapping her arms around the woman. Riona’s lips found hers, she could taste herself on them, on that tongue that slithered out. She groaned softly, savoured the sensation of skin against her as they lay on the riverbank. The heat of her contrasted with the cool caress of the breeze.

As she recovered, her mind calm once again, Aedwen broke the kiss and savoured the lingering flavour of her arousal. She smiled up at the witch above her. She brushed Riona’s hair back only to have it fall again and graze her shoulder.

“We should return to my home, before someone needs to go take a piss,” Aedwen said, and Riona glanced upwards towards the dark houses of the village, and then over to their clothes scattered among the grass.

“Might be advisable,” she admitted, turning her gaze back to Aedwen, a smile growing on her features.

She leaned down and pressed one more quick kiss to the healer’s lips, then slipped off her. After she got to her feet she helped Aedwen up, before the pair of them collected their belongings. Clothes in bundles, they moved up the hill, back into the village proper. As feet hit the packed earth of the village’s roads, the sound of a door closing echoed through the night.

“Oh, shit,” Aedwen said as she started to run, the arms of her dress flapping behind her. Behind her Riona let out a laugh as she followed.

Together they rushed until Aedwen nearly barrelled through her own door. She stumbled across the floorboards, and very nearly dropped everything as she righted herself. Coming in more calmly, Riona closed the door behind her, laughing as she walked across the house to drop her belongings on the bed.

“What’s so funny? We were almost caught,” Aedwen said over her shoulder as she carefully laid her clothes across the chest at the foot of her bed.

“Most stories have the lover stealing out into the night from the maiden’s bedchamber. Not into it,” Riona said, tossing a grin over her shoulder, before she lifted a foot to untie the first of her boots.

Aedwen blinked, and watched the woman who was still quietly laughing, before she found herself giggling.

“This is a better story then,” she said as Riona pulled off one boot and began to work on the other.

Setting both boots beside her bed, Riona stood naked in the shadows of the room. Her laughter slowly died away, and Aedwen struggled to see her in the dark. Then with a few words in her native tongue and a snap of her fingers, a small flame flickered in the firepit. It’s warm glow reached out to the corners of the room, and cast stark shadows upon the walls. Aedwen’s eyes though remained upon the back of her lover, roaming along those ancient symbols inked across her shoulder blades. Only the sweat stained bandages wrapped around her breaking her nudity.

“Come here,” Aedwen called, and Riona glanced back over her shoulder, a hint of a smile still on her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Aedwen had an idea of what was creeping into the woman’s thoughts, but wasn’t quite ready to let this moment of happiness bleed away just yet.

“Come here,” Aedwen said again, and beckoned with a single finger, biting her lower lip and watched that smile grow again. The witch turned, the stark shadows from the fire danced upon her body.

Bare feet padded across the warming wood, Aedwen savoured the contrast of those moving shadows that highlighted each ridge of muscle, and pale glistening skin.

Then the witch was upon her, hands on her shoulders pushed her against the wall. The power in those limbs sent a shiver coursing down Aedwen’s back, a gasp spilled from lips that were soon claimed in a hungry kiss. She let her own fingers curl into the tight flesh of Riona’s rump before she dragged her nails upwards, until they caught on the bandages.

The fingers paused even as tongues danced, and for a moment each woman simply savoured the feel of the other. The heat of the other’s skin soaking into themselves.

Aedwen tried to pull at her lover, but the witch’s strength kept her still for a moment. The kiss broke, and those brilliant eyes stared at her, glistening lips parted with warm breath cascading over her skin. Aedwen pulled again, and Riona gave in, and let herself be pulled towards the bed. Their feet stumbled about each other until Riona’s calves hit the side of the bed.

Eyes going wide, the witch fell back, arms grasping for purchase and failing before she landed on the mattress.

“You okay?” Aedwen almost shouted, her eyes widening as they moved to Riona’s side, and the bandages there. Laughter came forth instead, and Aedwen shook her head, hand clamped to her mouth as she felt herself giggling along with the witch.

“Alright then big strong witch. Seems you’re as clumsy as a drunken ox,” Aedwen said, as she crawled onto the bed.

“No fair. You pushed me,” Riona said between laughing, legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

“Mhmm. Cause I’m such a big scary lady,” Aedwen said, moving around the bed, as Riona sat up until she was resting back on her palms, making her muscles stand out in the firelight. Aedwen bit her lip as she passed by the foot of the bed.

“A pretty lass like yourself has a way of making me weak,” Riona said with a wink, and Aedwen flushed even as a quiet laugh came out.

“That was terrible,” she said, and climbed onto the bed behind the other woman, making Riona lean forward slightly. 

“It was,” Riona admitted, her voice soft as Aedwen ran her fingers through the woman’s hair. Coursing down the length of her untamed locks, grazing over her scalp and ghosting over her neck and back.

Head tilted forward, Riona let out a low sigh of pleasure as she savoured each caress. The hard edge of nails grazed her skin, always moving up for another pass. Aedwen watched as Riona’s shoulders relaxed.

Gathering Riona’s locks, Aedwen leaned in to kiss the back of her head. She heard a soft murmur of appreciation before she split the gathered locks in her hands and pushed them forward over Riona’s shoulders. The tips of her hair trailed over her chest to graze across the tops of her breasts. Her upper back and neck exposed now to Aedwen’s attentions, Riona leaned her head further forward.

Aedwen ran the edges of her nails along Riona’s scalp. Slowly, she curved outwards, and traced along the edges of her parted hair. Tilting her hands she brought her nails back in, and down, to graze Riona’s neck. Another low gasp spilled from the witch’s lips, nearly lost in the crackle of the fire. Down, Aedwen followed the slope to her shoulders, before tracing along the inked Celtic swirls. She could see the woman relaxing further, felt the barest hint of pleasant shivers coursing through her. Aedwen smiled, before she leaned in to press her lips to the base of Riona’s neck. The slight tang of salt upon her skin.

Leaning back and sitting on her heels, Aedwen let herself draw with her nails across Riona’s back. She enjoyed the sound of her light breezy gasps, the slight rise and fall of her shoulders. Watching this woman who had shown such power out by the lake melt into such beautiful contentment was a joy all its own.

Slowly, Aedwen wrapped her arms around Riona, and pulled her tight. She kissed along the woman’s shoulder, hair trailing across the bridge of her nose as she followed that soft slope upwards to the side of her neck. Aedwen pulled her lover down to her side, until both women got their feet up on the bed.

As they lay there, her body pressed against Riona’s, Aed ghosted downwards with her nails. Another soft gasp into the room while the fire’s crackle slowly died down. The shadows pushed the light downwards while Aedwen’s fingers pushed between parting thighs.

Lips continued to press, as her tongue occasionally tasted skin, but Aedwen found the slickness of her lover’s arousal. Heard the gentle gasps turn to a low moan as fingertips glided across the petals of her sex. Riona lifted one knee upwards, heel dragging across the sheet beneath them. Her tongue flickered across her lips as Aedwen curled her fingers and pushed them inside. The slick heat of her lover pressed in on her digits as she began to gently push them in and out.

Aedwen let her free hand cup one of the witch’s breasts, squeezing softly, letting fingers sink into the flesh. Riona’s hips started to grind against those thrusting fingers as more gentle moans spilled into the air, undisturbed now by the crackling of the near dead flames.

Darkness reclaimed the room, leaving both women within a black shroud broken only by the red glow of embers. Aedwen leaned her head in to breathe the scent of Riona’s hair. To feel the heat of her, and listen to her moans as fingers continued to push up inside her. Curled and dragged along those inner walls.

Twisting her hand slightly, Aedwen pressed the heel of her palm against Riona’s clit. A hungrier moan poured free as Aedwen captured a nipple between . Slowly she rolled the peak of Riona’s breast and delighted in the shifts of the witch’s body. The way her ass pressed firmly against her as she ground against those plunging digits.

Riona moaned something in her native tongue, her head turning towards the pillow, her own hands reaching back to caress, to touch. Fingers exploring curves in the dark as she was explored herself. Lips and tongue playing with skin as Riona’s weight weakened Aedwen’s arm pinned beneath her. Tingling spreading through her hand as she continued to thrust up into her claimed lover.

More shouted words in Gaelic, and Aedwen felt Riona stiffen. Her body stilled as she pressed her face to the pillow and moaned hungrily. Just as Riona had done to her, Aedwen didn’t stop, and let her fingers guide the woman through her ecstasy, until a hand grasped her own. The steel in the grip bordered on pain, and Aedwen stopped her ministrations.

Together they laid, the witch held in the healer’s embrace, fingers still resting inside her sex. They listened to the breath of the other for a few moments, before Aedwen finally pulled her fingers free. Along with the arm pinned beneath the witch.

Flexing her fingers, she let her nails once again graze her lover’s back while the other rested on Riona’s hip. Shifting closer, her breasts pressed tight to the woman’s back, Aedwen closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of another touched with sex.

She let herself slip into the realm of sleep.

><><

Opening her eyes, Aedwen was startled to see a mane of dark red blocking her vision before memories slid back into place and the sensation of skin against her own settled. She breathed out a sigh of relief. She shifted, and enjoyed the feel of waking up next to someone. For the first time in a year.

Since Mildreth.

Closing her eyes, Aedwen pushed down tears, and fought against guilt she knew her love wouldn’t want her to have. At least... she had to believe that. But the feelings swirling in her breast was not the ache of her loins. Lust was forgivable right? Was love?  
“Good morning,” Riona’s beautiful accent cut into her thoughts, and the witch shifted, turning over on the bed. She was smiling, until she noticed the tears welling in Aedwen’s eyes. Her expression softened, and she ran a thumb along Aedwen’s cheek before she leaned in to kiss her.

“I’m not here to replace her,” Riona said, and Aedwen felt the flow of tears as she wrapped her arms around Riona.

The woman who caused her guilt, and such comfort at the same time.

Strong arms encircled her, pulled her close, a hand ran soothingly along her back. Aedwen let herself cry, feeling safe, accepted, for the first time since Mildreth was murdered. As her tears streamed along Riona’s skin, the witch began to hum softly.

Then she began to sing along with the tune that slipped away into the Gaelic verses that swelled into the hut. Aedwen couldn’t understand it, but she felt the sorrow in each word. Grief that slowly broke and cracked to give way to hope.

As the last words of the song died away, Aedwen found her tears had stopped. She pulled away from Riona, wiping at her eyes.

“Sorry,” Aedwen said.

“You have nothing to be sorry of. For a healer, you really are shite at letting yourself heal,” Riona said, and Aedwen looked at her, finding the Irish woman laying back with arms crossed under her head, and her red mane spread across the pillow. Her breasts rose and fell with each steady breath, a display of temptation to Aedwen’s lips.

Aedwen had to admit, she really did enjoy that view.

“Perhaps. But others I’m good at. So let me check your bandages,” she said as she got off the bed and moved towards her cupboard. She felt Riona’s eyes upon her, and God damn it, Aedwen liked it. She smiled, despite herself, and shook her head as she opened the cupboard. Pulling the jar she kept her poultice in, along with some fresh bandages, Aedwen soon made her way back to the smiling Riona.

The Irish woman, laid out naked upon her bed. That dusting of freckles across her face, and her chest. The green eyes full of warmth. Aedwen found herself pausing at the foot of the bed, just to appreciate the view. She smiled, knowing full well that Riona was enjoying herself.

Slipping around to the bedside, Aedwen knelt and carefully began to unwind the bandages she’d applied yesterday. Bandages she knew she should have replaced before they slept. But, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not when the memories of skin against her lips, or the moans that spilled from Riona filled her mind.

After unwinding and pulling the bandage out from beneath the woman, Aedwen pulled off the now dried poultice to examine the wound.

“Christ in Heaven,” she breathed and crossed herself as she stared at the pale pink scar running along Riona’s side, where before had been split flesh.

“It wasn’t him,” Riona said simply and Aedwen looked back to her, mouth agape.

“I’m not immortal, nor an angel, nor a demon. Just a witch, whose Goddess seemed fit to heal,” Riona said, and Aedwen nodded, though her mouth still hung open.

“Can... you do that for others?” Aedwen asked, and watched sadness flicker across that freckled face.

“No. Much as I wish it. I was never trained in the healing arts. Merely, blessed with it,” she said with a glance off to the side. Aedwen set aside her bandages and poultice, before her eyes returned to the scar. She reached out, gingerly, until her fingertip grazed it.

“It’s a miracle,” she muttered quietly, letting her hand press against it, feeling the slight bump of the distorted skin.

“Or just magic,” Riona said and placed her hand carefully over Aedwen’s.

The healer looked up at the other woman to see the worry in her eyes. Worry to how she would react, to how she would view the woman beneath her. Aedwen leaned up, and pressed her lips to Riona’s stomach, before standing to go find her dress.

“Dangerous words these days,” she said. She heard her bed creaking behind her as she remembered the magic on display the other day on the lake side. The death, and now here the opposite.

“It wasn’t always,” Riona said, moving to stand behind Aedwen, a hand on her shoulder.

The healer’s thoughts had turned back to Meredith again. A woman murdered for the mistaken belief that she was a witch. And now here she was, fucking an actual witch.

“No. But they are now. I just... need a moment,” Aedwen said, and glanced over her shoulder. After she saw the hurt in Riona’s eyes, she really wished she hadn’t.

Riona nodded though, and let her hand slide off Aedwen’s shoulder before she moved to the other bed. Aedwen looked away as Riona dressed. She didn’t move, didn’t look up until she heard boots treading across her floor, and her door opening. Sunlight streamed into her home, and Riona paused at the door, and only now could Aedwen bring herself to look up.

The witch stood there, watched her. Her lips parted as if to say something, but instead she looked to the side and closed the door and left Aedwen alone.

“Fuck,” Aedwen shouted, before she grabbed the nearby bucket and threw it across the room to crack loudly against the wall. Water splashed across the floor, streaming towards a corner. Fingers pressed to her temples, Aedwen slid down the wall and stared at her feet.

“God, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I let myself be happy?” she said before she rubbed at her eyes.

She let her head hit the wall behind her, and stared up at the ceiling, arms resting on her knees. She sighed as she tried to shuffle through her feelings. Lust, love, guilt, grief, and anger all crashed and swirled among each other. Like the raging sea.

Riona hadn’t deserved to be pushed away like that; the woman was likely looking for comfort as much as Aedwen had been. God, she might even been feeling that same stirring in the heart that Aedwen was. How long had she been alone, hunted, scorned, hated by everyone around her?

“Fuck,” Aedwen said again, and got to her feet and found her dress. Pulling it on and slinging her healer’s pouch across her shoulder, she heard a scratching at the door. Low to the ground.

With a frown, Aedwen moved over to it, and opened the door, only to see a flash of orange fur as a fox darted inside. Spinning, she watched as the creature leapt up onto the bed she’d shared with Riona and sat. It stared at Aedwen with eyes that held too much wisdom. She wandered across the room and reached out to the fox, and it brushed its head against her hand.

“What are you?” she asked, feeling the fur soft against her palm, studying the animal that sat in the lingering dampness of sex.

The fox tilted its head and watched Aedwen, but of course said nothing. Aedwen could only sigh and sit beside the animal, scratching behind one of its ears. This had the taste of magic to it; of course, she’d met the damn fox the same day she found Riona. Not so long before.

“I wish you could just tell me whatever secrets you hold,” Aedwen said, and the fox pulled away from her. It leapt off the bed to pad around to the far side. Aedwen watched it until it vanished from view. She sighed and turned again towards the closed door.

When the fox leapt back up onto the bed, it held the bandage she’d taken off Riona earlier. It dropped the strip of linen in her lap and Aedwen picked it up.

“Suppose it’s too much to ask to go back to how everything was before. When things were simple,” she muttered quietly, and the fox bobbed its head.

“Are you even real?” she said, and again the fox bobbed its head up and down. At this Aedwen laughed at herself.

“Seems the brotherhood got the wrong woman. I was the witch all along. Fucking other ones and talking to foxes,” she said and ran a hand under her nose. The fox butted its head into her, pulling her attention back to it.

Staring into those slit pupils resting in gold pools, Aedwen felt a twinge of familiarity that she shouldn’t have. She frowned even as the fox stepped into her lap and licked her neck. Then it slipped off and curled around behind her. She tried to follow, only to feel its head butt into her back.

“Fine, fine, I’m getting up,” she said, rising to her feet and turning to regard the animal. It stood on the bed, staring at her.

“Am I wrong, for falling for Riona? She’s... exactly what Meredith was accused of being. She’s worming into my mind and God help me I don’t want her to leave. What if I forget Meredith? Is this all a betrayal? Why does this have to be so complicated? It should be so damn simple. God just, give me a sign,” Aedwen said, and took a breath as the fox tilted its head. Aedwen blinked, seeing this animal on her bed. The one that had been with her the past few days, guided her. God had given her a sign, a blatant one, and she was being too damn blind to see it clearly.

“Am I wrong, for taking Riona to my bed? To being her lover?” Aedwen tried again, and this time the fox shook its head.

“Thank you,” she said and scratched at the fox’s head before she moved to the door. As soon as she opened it, the fox scurried out around her legs and shot off towards the forest. When Aedwen turned to find it after closing her door, it was gone.

Letting out a breath to centre herself, Aedwen looked around the village, where the people were still preparing for the coming attack. Bundles of arrows usually meant for deer were stacked behind barricades. Axes meant for trees were sharpened and readied for war. Solid poles with sharpened tips turned into impromptu spears. Stout sharp stakes were driven into the ground, and others continued to fortify the barricades, blocking pathways and between homes.

The fear of the village was apparent as people prepared. Villagers used to farming and fishing now preparing to take lives, taught by warriors how to swing an axe at a person instead of a tree. Even the children helped, taking rocks from the river in buckets to be added to the barricades.

She spotted Riona finally, down by the river, showing a small group of men and women how to use the axe. Her movements were graceful compared to their clumsy swings, but from the top of the hill it looked like she had the patience of a saint.

Not that she would like that comparison Aedwen thought to herself.

As she watched, someone stepped up next to her. Aedwen glanced over, surprised to see Maetheld beside her, looking down at Riona training the villagers.

“She seems a good woman. Pagan she might be,” Maetheld said, arms crossed over her chest. It was the first attempt at a conversation in a year, and Aedwen’s mind spun for a moment.

“I see how you look at her, Aedwen. I saw the same look in your eyes when you started courting my daughter,” Maetheld continued, and Aedwen found herself blinking, jaw slipping open. Maetheld glanced over and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t look so surprised. Of course I knew. Meredith was terrible at keeping secrets from me. But, before... before the Brotherhood, I wanted it to stay that way. I was happy for her, finding love when I never did, but, I don’t think many would have understood,” Maetheld said, and Aedwen nodded.

“And now I see you looking at this woman the same way. I saw the way you held her last night.”

“You, saw... how much?” Aedwen said, a burning flush spread across her cheeks.

“Enough. There’s no moving forward for me Aedwen. No happiness. I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you since the pyre, but, please listen to this. Take her hand when this is over and run, far from here. Be happy, get away and be happy. This place, is nothing but misery for me and you,” Maetheld said and put a gentle hand on Aedwen’s shoulder.

“Go to her. Be with her. Find happiness. Meredith wanted it, and if that’s what she wanted. I’ll have to accept that.”

Aedwen nodded and looked back down the hill.

“How bad, do you think this fight will be?” she asked then.

“Honestly? I don’t know. But, I intend to put the fear of God back into those vile bastards.”

><><

As the sun reached its zenith, the folk that Riona was training wandered off to get lunch. With a sigh the witch sat on the side of the hill and looked over the river to the woods on the far side. Leaned back on her elbows, she let the sun warm her skin. 

Her eyes caught a flash of movement; orange fur across the water, that slithered through the grass and down to the riverbank.

The vixen seemed to be ever present about this place, and the witch knew why. Still, Riona couldn’t help but smile as she watched the fox jump into the river and paddle across the current, head poking above the surface.

When the fox reached the shoreline she shook itself furiously before she meandered up the hill. She stopped and sat in front of Riona, watching her intently.

“You have to move on at some point,” she said softly in Gaelic, and the vixen let out a quiet bark, before she shook her head. Riona could only raise an eyebrow before noting the fox turned her eyes up the hill.

Shifting to look back, Riona spotted Aedwen coming down towards her, a cloth held by the four corners in her hand, a water skin in the other.

“I see you’ve met my friend here,” Aedwen said as she sat beside Riona, and looked straight ahead.

“Your friend?” Riona asked, back to leaning on her elbows. She noted the glance Aedwen threw her way; nervous.

“It’s been following me since that day in the woods. Led me to a meadow,” Aedwen said as she looked down and busied herself with unfolding the cloth she’d set in her lap. Inside were two small hunks of bread, with slices of cheese and what looked to be salted strips of pork.

“She,” Riona mentioned with the slightest curve of her lips.

“She?”

“Your fox friend. It’s a she,” Riona said, and Aedwen looked up at the fox that had laid itself down in front of them, resting its head upon its front paws. Aedwen frowned slightly, some thought swirling through her mind.

“Can you understand her?” Aedwen asked, and handed some of the food over to Riona, who took it with a nod of thanks.

“No. I can’t speak to animals, and my familiar was killed a few months ago. I have yet to get a new one,” Riona said before she bit into the bread.

“I’m sorry,” Aedwen said, lifting some cheese to her lips. Riona could only shrug as she finished chewing and swallowed.

“Wasn’t your fault,” Riona said before she took another bite.

For a moment there was quiet between the pair of them as they ate their lunch. The distant conversations of the villagers sounding from the top hill as they watched the wind blowing across the river, making the grass on the hillside sway and the leaves of the distant trees rustle. Riona always enjoyed these moments of beauty, but as they ate in silence she was reminded of the task she’d taken up. The hunt that had been put on pause by zealots that didn’t want to understand her, nor what she had to do.

Even if her failure might well mean they all burned.

Riona was eager to move on, to continue her hunt, but she could not run from this fight. These people had saved her, so their fight was as much hers now as it was theirs.

“I know, but I’m sorry even still. About earlier. It was unkind. It wasn’t fair,” Aedwen finally said, pulling Riona from her thoughts. The witch sat up and brushed some crumbs from her lap, before tossing one small strip of pork to the fox watching them.

“You don’t have to apologize. You are still healing,” Riona said as she reached forward and took Aedwen’s hand in hers, folded her fingers through the other woman’s. Before them the fox sniffed at the tossed bit of pork, before snapping it up.

“Riona, I—” Aedwen started, but the witch leaned over, and put a finger against Aedwen’s lips.

“I’m not here to force anything. You’re pretty, and I like you, but that doesn’t mean I get to control everything that happens between us,” Riona said.

Aedwen surprised her then, turning and pressing her lips to Riona’s own. A hand slid upwards along her cheek and into her hair. Lips parted, and a hint of tongue teased at the surprised witch, before Aedwen pulled back. A flush crept across her cheeks as she looked up the hill, but no one was watching.

“I have a surprise for you tonight,” Aedwen said, and at that Riona smiled.

“Now, if I’m honest I hope this is a surprise that doesn’t need clothing,” Riona said, and Aedwen’s blush grew brighter, but she smiled.

“It does not,” she confirmed, and leaned in for another kiss.

The cry of a raven had both women snapping their heads upwards, and the vixen jumped to its feet and barking.

The bird glided down, and landed a few feet from Riona’s boots. Its head twisted, regardrf the fox a moment, before it bounded closer to Riona. Head turned again, those dark eyes stared directly at the witch who frowned deeply, before her eyes twitched. A feminine voice spoke into her mind, an inhuman voice of unearthly beauty.

“They come. Crawling like ants through the forest they come. Two centuries worth. With the dawn they will be here. Send me their souls Riona.”

The message delivered, the raven took flight once more, earning a bark from the fox. Within moments it was gone from sight, as if it had never been.

“So the sun gives a river of blood,” Riona said in Gaelic as Aedwen stared at her with a look of bewilderment.

“What was that?” she asked, and Riona glanced over to her.

“The brotherhood will be here in the morning. Two hundred of them,” Riona said as she got to her feet. She had to find Maetheld, let her know.

“I thought you couldn’t speak to animals,” Aedwen said, and get to her feet as well.

“That wasn’t an animal. I have to warn the others,” Riona said, and Aedwen nodded, and followed her up the hill despite the confusion of that answer.

When they did find Maetheld and told her the news, fear spread among the villagers. The threat was no longer a distant thing; it was upon their doorstep now. But Maetheld managed to calm them enough. To get them back to work, to prepare as much as she could.

Riona knew the look in her face though. She’d seen it enough.

Terror.

><><

On her knees, Riona looked up to the pale face of the moon. Her blade rested upon her upturned hands. Battle and bloodshed would come with the morrow, and in moments she would be with Aedwen. So now was her time to commune.

Fingers curling around blade and hilt, the moonlight bathing her face, she let her words catch upon the wind to be carried beyond.

“Morrigan Morrigan, whose sacred names are three. Hear these words I speak to thee,” Riona started and felt a familiar chill run along her spine, a heat within her heart.

“Give me the cold, give me the rain. Let their vile blood stain. As dawn rises look for shriek and pain. Guide my sword, guard my heart. Morrigan Morrigan, oh Raven Queen. Grant her health, grant her joy. Heed my plea and send me forth, and to your arms I will send their souls.”

Riona gently kissed the edge of her blade before she lifted it upwards to the moonlight. The chill slithered across her shoulders, a heat upon her lips a moment. Then it was gone. Riona smiled, and slid her sword back into its scabbard.

“Pretty words. What do they mean?” Maetheld’s voice said from behind.

Riona glanced back, before getting to her feet. She walked over to the aging warrior and stood before her, one thumb resting in her belt.

“Just a prayer to my Goddess. Asking for strength tomorrow. Not so different from your own prayers I imagine,” Riona said, and Maetheld nodded, taking a step to look past the witch and to the river. Lifting an eyebrow, Riona followed the movement with her eyes, before turning again and standing beside the woman.

“It may be a sin to think it, and more so certainly to admit it, but I’ll take all the help I can get tomorrow. These people are farmers, not warriors. Two days of training is not enough to stand against men who had centred their lives around murder,” Maetheld said before she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I know it,” Riona said, and crossed her arms, while she watched the woman beside her.

“Aedwen tells me you are truly a witch. That you have magic that can aid us. The church may excommunicate me. Some priest might tie me to a stake and burn me. I can accept that. I’ve little to live for these days. I just need these people to survive. So, though I have no right to ask, I need you not to hold back anything tomorrow,” Maetheld said.

“I have other duties besides here. I fully intend on getting out alive with as many of your people as I can save, whatever that might take. But, if we kill them all, which should be our goal, what makes you think that the church would know anything about what you accepted or thought here?” Riona asked, and Maetheld gave a humourless snort of a laugh, and only now pulled her eyes from the river.

“The brotherhood is here in force are they not? Why not send a small party to investigate after finding their dead brothers? Why such a large force? They knew you were here not because they are cunning, but because someone told them. Perhaps even as you arrived,” Maetheld said, and Riona grunted.

“Never seen a fully unified village,” Riona said, starting to turn away.

“Traditions may take generations to die, and people might look the other way for... lesser sins, but the church’s fear still holds sway here. God fearing is a phrase for a reason,” Maetheld said, and Riona paused. She turned her head just enough to see Maetheld at the edge of her vision.

“That seems to depend on the person,” the witch said.

“True enough. But, Aedwen is waiting for you I’m sure,” Maetheld said, and Riona felt the woman had more to say, but no other words were forthcoming. She simply stood there on the hillside and watched the river.

Pursing her lips, Riona pondered saying something else. Instead she turned away and hiked back up the hillside, to the small house she’d been sharing these past few evenings.

Each step closer had her heart beating faster. Thoughts of the coming battle, of the conversation on the riverside slowly slipping away until only the woman waiting for her dominated her mind. Her footsteps sped up, until she was raising her hand and pushing open the door into the candle lit room of Aedwen’s home.

“Welcome back,” Aedwen said from where she stood at the foot of her bed, stark naked, while a coy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. Dangling from an outstretched finger was a leather harness that held a wooden phallus, carefully smoothed and lacquered.  
“And a fine evening to you as well,” Riona said, already pulling her tunic off over her head and dropping it on the floor. Her belt was next, though she at least carefully set that down with her blade.

“Apparently these were all the rage among the Romans. At least, that’s what the merchant told me. What I do know, I really like this,” Aedwen said, still holding out the harness as she watched the clothes being pulled off her lover and discarded in a staggered path along the floor. Revealing that skin she enjoyed running her fingers across.

Then Riona was upon her. The witch grasped her wrist and pushed her against the wall. Aedwen gasped as her shoulder blades hit the wood, the sound muffled by the hungry press of lips, the eager thrust of tongue. Riona pressed her body firmly against her lover, felt the heat of her, the lust in her. Running fingers from shoulder to wrist, she took the harness and its wooden cock from her.

Both arms wrapped around Riona, Aedwen pulled her tight. Skin rubbed against skin as tongues danced between their lips. The leather of the harness traced along Aedwen’s thigh, until Riona pulled it away and broke the kiss. She was smiling, head tilted forward, hair throwing shadows across her features.

Another step back, and Riona pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Her eyes roamed over the woman still leaning against the wall, while she lifted a leg and put it through one loop of the harness. Riona watched Aedwen’s bite a finger as the healer watched while Riona slipped her next leg into the second loop.

Slowly she lifted, the leather traced up the back of her legs and up into the cleft of her ass. The wooden cock swayed in front of her, before she tightened the straps and locked them into place. A small groan spilled from her as a rounded ridge on the base of the toy pressed hard into her clit. The phallus stood out from her crotch, almost proudly, and drew Aedwen’s eye.

Without a word, Riona lunged forward, and grasped Aedwen’s shoulders. She pressed a hungry kiss to the woman’s lips, before she pushed her downwards. Aedwen’s eyes wandered up over the bared flesh as she descended to her knees, until that wooden cock was just in front of her face. She bit her a lip, and stared at it, while her lust spread through her mind. Without needing to be told, Aedwen wrapped her lips around the phallus. Slowly she pulled it into her mouth, trailing lips pushed the toy back against Riona’s clit to draw a moan.

With a hand planted on the wall, Riona watched her lover suck on the wooden cock. Watched her eyes flutter closed as she slathered its length in her saliva. The taste of wax upon her tongue, Aedwen bobbed her head up and down, each descent pressed that little nub against Riona’s clit to pull a breathy moan.

When she pulled off, her eyes flicked upwards. Past the swell of breasts to the gaze staring at her. She smiled and got to her feet, hands leading the ascent up from Riona’s hips and curving in to cup her breasts. Stiff nipples pressed against those soft palms, Riona’s fingers drifted from Aedwen’s wrists. They travelled along her forearms and past her elbows to grip her shoulders firmly.

Riona spun her lover around, and Aedwen gasped as she was pressed against the wall. Her own nipples rough against the wood as Riona pulled her hair to the side, draping it all over one shoulder. She stepped closer so her breasts crushed against Aedwen’s back, her breath cascaded over her neck. The slick cock slid between Aedwen’s thighs, and she spread her thighs, heels dragging across the floor. Fingertips against the wall she turned her head slightly. Riona’s teeth nipped at her ear before she spoke in Gaelic.

“I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make you moan. I’m going to make you cum,” she said, as her fingers curled over Aedwen’s hip and dug into her skin.

Not understanding a word, the beautiful lilt of Riona’s words, with all the aggression in her tone, Aedwen still moaned. A swift pull on her hip had her back arching, feet shuffled across the floor as her ass was forced rearwards. Her hands planted themselves on the wall, and Riona grasped one, pinning her there.

“Fuck,” the word was little more than a breath that spilled from Aedwen’s lips.

Riona purred softly, before she planted a kiss on the back of Aedwen’s shoulder. Then she thrust her faux cock into her lover’s slick cunt. Aedwen moaned against the wall, the fingers of her free hand curled and scraped nails across the wood. Riona kept a firm hand on her lover’s hip, as she thrust hard into her.

“Fuck,” the word almost lost amid moans this time as Aedwen’s chest was pressed against the wall with each thrust. Each time that wooden phallus rammed into her.

The witch’s fingers dug into Aedwen’s skin, nails indented the flesh as her hips clapped against the healer’s ass. The sound of it filled the home, mixed with the rising moans of both women. Riona’s hand dragged further inwards, nails scraped across skin until they reached Aedwen’s clit. She began to rub at the little nub, drew louder moans from the woman.

Aedwen couldn’t move, couldn’t react. She stayed there as knees shook as lust clouded her mind. Her lover fucked her hard against the wall. She didn’t want it to end, even as pleasure climbed higher.

Nipples pressed firmly into the soft skin of Aedwen’s back. The sharp nips of teeth played along her shoulders, her neck. And through it all Riona kept thrusting into her. Kept rubbing her clit. Kept making her moan hungrily.

Shocks of pleasure coursed through Aedwen’s body as orgasm hit her. Riona’s hand shifted from pinning her hand to slip under her arm. Aedwen felt like a doll grasped by that one powerful arm. More as her knees gave out as a loud moan poured out. Still Riona didn’t stop. Thrusting and rubbing and pinching now at her clit. No words slipped out, no curses, just lustful sounds as Riona’s body now kept her pinned to the wall.

Eventually though, it slowed. Hard claps of flesh turned to gentle pushes that still filled her. Those magic fingers began to caress, and her body relaxed its tight hold of her against the wall.

The moment it almost became too much, too sensitive, Riona pulled out. The wooden cock smeared a line of Aedwen’s arousal down the inside of her thigh as those strong arms wrapped around her. Riona pulled her lover close, and rested her chin on Aedwen’s shoulder, felt the rise and fall of her chest.

Slowly, Aedwen felt strength return to her legs. She leaned her head back and licked her lips before she felt Riona start to move. She shifted, lifted her head up as Riona slid one hand down her arm to take her hand. Slowly she began to move to the bed, fingertips gliding over Aedwen’s wrist.

As the pair reached the bedside, Riona turned and slid a hand into the small of Aedwen’s back. She pulled her close and kissed her deep. Their lips didn’t break as Riona slowly lowered Aedwen to the bed, and followed with her. Their lips finally broke from each other as Aedwen’s back laid across the mattress. Riona slipped one arm beneath Aedwen’s knee, and lifted it upwards as she laid herself above the other woman, stared into her eyes.

Aedwen reached between her legs, and grasped the wooden phallus, aimed it for the witch as her hips eased forward. The slickness of orgasm of lust smeared across Aedwen’s palm as she felt the woman above sliding into her once more. Her fingers uncurled, and she grasped at Riona’s back as she met the gaze that watched her.

The movements were slow, deep, but still pulled moans from Aedwen who couldn’t pull her eyes away from Riona’s. Her pinned knee stopped her own hips from responding so she savoured the feelings between her thighs. Her fingers traced the patterns of tattoos she couldn’t see, as Riona’s hips picked up speed.

Aedwen finally let her head lean back, and moaned to the ceiling as Riona began to properly fuck her. The bed creaked beneath the pair of them while Riona’s own moans spilled into the music of lust that filled the room. The heat soaked into their skin as their bodies moved, as hands explored, as hips drove forward.

It did not take long for Riona’s moans to reach a peak. The witch’s fingers curled into the damp sheets beneath her lover as she pushed herself to orgasm as the toy’s nub ground against her clit. Her hair drifted across Aedwen’s chest as she pushed herself through the pleasure until it was near pain.

She paused, breathing heavily, sweat beaded on her brow as Aedwen smiled up at her. She slid her soft hands along the powerful body, until they found the leather straps. Slowly they came undone, splayed over Aedwen’s arms. She pulled the harness from the woman, she eased the phallus from within her with a soft gasp as the wood dragged along her flesh once more.

As her knee slid from under Riona’s breast, Aedwen’s arm flopped to the side. The harness and toy fell to the floor with a thump as Riona settled atop her, and kissed her neck and shoulder softly.

“We should sleep,” Aedwen whispered.

There was a pause, warm breath washed over damp skin.

“We should,” Riona said softly before she planted one last kiss and slid off Aedwen to lay beside her.

Aedwen turned to stare into those beautiful eyes. To get lost in the freckles dusting across her features. She reached up, and let her fingertips run over Riona’s cheeks. The witch tilted her head, nuzzled into the touch. It looked cute, and the image made Aedwen smile.

No matter what happened tomorrow, she had this vision now to hold onto.


	3. The Morrigan Calls

It wasn’t quite dawn, but movement pulled Aedwen from her sleep. The scent of sex still filled her home, but her bed was empty. Blinking and rubbing sleep from her eyes, she looked across the room to see Riona pulling on her boots, her trousers already on.

Aedwen sighed, propped herself up on an elbow. She knew what this meant, but forced herself to enjoy the topless beauty.

Riona’s looked over, and smirked. She took a moment to stretch, to display the muscles of her form perfectly, her fingers curled as she flexed her arms.

“Better than any huscarl,” Aedwen said, and Riona laughed, before she took up the long cloth she used for her bindings.

“Let me help,” Aedwen said, and climbed out of bed, bare feet patted across the floor boards as she took the strip of linen. She wanted so badly to take her time, to savour this moment as she had the ones last night. Instead she quickly but carefully wrapped the linen around her lover and tied it off.

“Thank you,” Riona said before she pulled on her tunic.

Taking a step away, Aedwen watched her lover don her mail with its wolf pelt. The belt with her sword was next. Riona pulled her hair back and was about to braid when Aedwen stepped forward again. Riona’s lips barely curled this time though her hands fell to her sides, thumbs slipped under her belt.

Aedwen worked carefully with three sections of hair, intertwining them together before she took a piece of string to tie it off near the end.

“My warrior,” Aedwen said, and Riona looked back.

For a few heartbeats there was a stillness between them, until Riona leaned forward and let her lips brush against Aedwen’s. Then, she stepped away and out into the cresting light of the dawn.

“God. Please,” Aedwen said as she put a hand over her mouth.

><><

With purposeful strides, Riona walked from Aedwen’s home to the group of villagers that had volunteered to fight. They stood near the gates, axes, pitchforks, and hunting bows in hand. The five proper warriors among them, clad in mail with metal helmets upon their heads.

As Riona approached, Maetheld came to meet her, the woman’s face concealed by a mask. Above them, dark clouds rolled across the sky, and everyone glanced upwards. As the sun began its rise above the horizon, it was hidden behind a shroud of grey. As morning’s light turned to dark once more, lightning flared within the clouds.

“It seems God himself has come to watch,” Maetheld said as she stopped before the witch, a rumble of thunder rumbled through the heavens.

“Yours or mine,” Riona said. Maetheld crossed herself as the first few drops of rain fell from the skies.

“God forgive me, I pray it’s yours. Come,” Maetheld said, leading Riona towards the gates, and the impromptu platforms they’d all built over the past few days. Nothing that would hold against a proper army, but perhaps against a band of murderers.

The villagers struggled to meet the eyes of the witch among them, superstition still clung to them. Riona ignored it all, and climbed up onto one of the platforms and looked out over the fields before them to the forest beyond. The same forest she’d limped from a few days ago.

“Tancred snuck out before dawn. These brotherhood might be an army, but they are no warriors. Undisciplined. He found them quick enough, says they should be here soon. They were packing their camp as he left them,” Maetheld said as a fork of lightning lanced down and struck across the river. The villagers gasped almost as one and Riona took a deep breath as she looked up to see a raven flying across the sky.

“Here they come,” Riona said as she brought her eyes back down in time to see figures in white robes moving through the trees. In their hands, axes and clubs as always. Their hoods pulled up over their head as they moved out into the open while the skies properly opened up, and rain poured over the battlefield.

“Archers,” Maetheld said, and Riona almost winced; these people weren’t archers, they were hunters.

Still they listened, clambered up onto the platforms and peaked over the walls. They all pulled arrows from their quivers. From the forest, monks kept marching. One eased his way to the front, a long staff in his hands, a cross carved of wood at its end. He held it up high for all to see as another bolt of lightning struck across the river.

“That’s a lot of murderers,” Maetheld said as she pulled her sword from its scabbard.

“They’re still just men. They die the same,” Riona said and Maetheld nodded as the lead monk stopped but thirty paces from the gates of the town.

The man looked at Riona with a sneer, before he held his cross aloft once more.

“Good people, do not forsake God lest he forsake you. Do not condemn your souls for this witch,” he said, loud enough to be heard by all. The villagers looked among each other, whispers hidden by the wind fluttering between them. Here, now, doubt was creeping into their minds. Their souls.

“Give me your bow,” Maetheld said, and Riona raised an eyebrow as she looked over to see the Saxon woman taking a bow from one of the villagers as the monk continued to rant. The others behind him slowly advanced, hands flexing around the hafts of their weapons. At the back, Riona spotted a few with bows.

Maetheld took the bow, nocked an arrow and drew back. The monk spread his arms wide and laughed.

“Satan cannot defeat God,” he shouted.

“This is for Meredith you fuck,” Maetheld shouted and released her fingers. The bowstring snapped forward and the arrow flew to pierce the monk’s shoulder. He cried out as the arrow sank into his flesh, but he quickly regained his composure.

“As I said heretic, Satan, cannot, defeat God,” he called again. The villagers openly stared, and doubt spread like poison among them.

Riona pulled her sword free and pointed it to the monk who only laughed as crimson flowered from his wound. Riona lifted a hand, and squeezed her fingers shut into a fist.

A bolt of lightning struck the monk’s chest. The bright flare snapped between others, their screams filled the air as flesh sizzled, and veins burst from skin in sprays of blood.

Maetheld’s eyes widened as a dozen brothers dropped to the ground. Those still alive squirmed in the wet grass, their blood poured from their torn skin, rain sizzled on their bodies, and smoke rose from the wounds.

“Archers now,” Maetheld shouted as the brotherhood army charged forward. Some slipped and fell in the grass, but most kept their footing.

Until the first volley of arrows tore into them. Men fell, grasped at the shafts that pierced them, tripped their comrades as the villagers nocked another set of arrows and loosed. Doubt was gone now as they sent death from over their walls. More and more monks fell, and their blood flowed over the grassy field. Their archers at the back raised their bows.

“Cover,” Maetheld called.

Riona and most of the villagers ducked down behind the walls, the warriors lifted their shields. The brotherhood arrows sank into wood, but from a few screams they found flesh as well.

“Keep firing,” Maetheld called as Riona got back up, whispering under her breath as she shot her hand out. Arrows sailed through the air, loosed from either side and finding flesh. The villagers simply did not have the numbers, and after seven of them lay dead upon the ground the others hid. Screams of terror ripped above the sound of rain as bows fell from their hands.

Maetheld stared at them, and glanced over the wall as the first of the brothers reached the gate. She ducked back down as an arrow broke upon her helmet, scratching the metal.

“Bastards,” she muttered and looked to Riona, still standing, unstruck, her brows furrowed. Below axes began to chop into the gates, and the four warriors still on the ground linked their shields together to stand ready.

Then Riona’s fingers opened and fresh screams sounded from the field. Maetheld dared to look over and her eyes widened behind her mask.

“Mary, mother of God,” she said.

Branches had spread from within the ground, they climbed up the walls, over the gates, and over the monks below. They burrowed into flesh, wrapped around bone, and pulled taught. One man’s ribs were broken and pulled out from his chest. Another opened his mouth to scream only for plants to clamber up from his throat and break his jaw as they emerged in a stream of blood. So many were slaughtered by the spell, held aloft by the barrier of vines and branches that sprouted from the ground, their figures twisted into a mockery of human shape as joints were cracked and broken. The rain was unable to hide the stench of blood and shit.

“Kill the witch,” someone yelled, and Riona wasn’t sure if it was outside or in. An arrow scraped along her arm and finally she ducked down as more monks came forward with axes to hack at the new barrier before them.

“Steel now,” Riona said to Maetheld and looked past the warrior to the villagers. They were huddled behind the walls, and clutched at their weapons until knuckles were white. With wide eyes they kept looking at the top of the wall, and back to Riona. Maetheld followed the look and nodded.

“Back. Back to the hall,” she called, and terrified villagers looked to her; they had not been ready. Especially not for what Riona had called upon.

Beyond the wall, the sound of hacking axes carried even as thunder rumbled through the sky. Within moments the gates began to shake as axes hacked into the wood once again. The Anglo-Saxon warriors steadied themselves as the first glint of steel broke through the barrier.

“Go, now,” Maetheld shouted, and some of them began to move. They stumbled, but they moved. One or two paused to grasp at their friends, to pull them along up to the village’s hall. Some could not tear their eyes from those laying on the ground with arrows jutting from their flesh. Blood streamed from their bodies, carried along the paths by the rain.

“If we fall...” Riona said quietly.

“I know,” Maetheld said and looked towards the gate as an axe head punched through with a spray of splinters.

“With them gone, the bastards will be able to just move around the barricades,” Riona said and pointed with her thumb over her back at the retreating villagers.

“I know,” Maetheld said as another axe punched through the gate. The wood was full of holes now, the monks behind easily seen as they grunted and hacked.

“Then, we make them die here,” Riona said, and turned back to face the gates.

Riona levelled her blade towards the gates, and brought the pommel back until it nearly touched her shoulder. She placed her palm flat on the blade and waited, watched.

The gate burst open, and the zealots charged in. The Anglo-Saxon warriors tensed themselves, and Riona let out a shout as she slid her hand down the blade. Flames flickered along her fingers before a crow of green fire shot outwards. It soared above the linked shields before her and flew into the face of the first monk and burst. Embers shot outwards, and landed on the robes of others.

The man couldn’t even scream as his face melted down to the skull. Smoke rose from the blackened bone as he collapsed, others around him dropping as they desperately tried to put out the fire that consumed their garments and burnt their flesh.

More monks poured in through the opening. So blinded by hate they had no fear, and no compassion, they trampled their comrades into the ground. Axes and clubs smashed into the shields, and the four Saxon men grunted as they bore the brunt upon arm and shoulder. Their swords stabbed over the top rims of their shields, to sink into flesh and spill blood.

The village warriors tried to push forward, to push the brotherhood monks back into the tight confines of the gate. The swarm that smashed into their shield wall was already starting to overwhelm them. Their boots dug into the mud, as their swords stabbed again and again. Crimson dripped from steel as a mound of bodies formed before them.

Still the monks rushed forward. An axe split through the steel rim of one shield and down the planks. The man named Ulfred plunged his sword forwards only for another axe to hit his arm. He screamed in pain though the axe didn’t break through the mail, and his sword fell from numbing fingers.

Maetheld moved forward, and Riona let loose another crow of fire that hit a man’s chest. The flames burned through cloth and flesh to his ribs. His lungs and heart fell as ash from a gaping wound, and his body was thrown aside by the monk behind.

Replacing Ulfred’s place in the formation, Maetheld caught the next blow on her shield and plunged her sword down into the zealot’s knee. She struck her attacker with steel rim, as Ulfred tossed his ruined shield aside. He flexed his fingers as he searched the ground for another weapon and found a wood axe discarded by the peasants.

A forceful strike sent one of the warriors stumbling back. The monks surged into the break, and forced Tancred off to the side. A club struck the side of his head and he stumbled to the ground despite his helmet.

“Hold them,” Maetheld tried to yell, and Riona threw another fire crow forwards. She caught a man in the shoulder, the fires still burned down into his chest.

A chill was creeping through her fingers, and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to bring forth much more. She ran to Tancred’s side while he picked himself back up, shield left in the mud. Her blade swung upwards, severed an arm at the elbow before a new blow could land upon the warrior.

“Kill the witch,” the shout came from the frenzied crowd, and three of them came at Riona at once.  
“Fuck,” Riona muttered as she steeled herself for the oncoming assault.

She caught the haft of an axe with the flat of her sword and twisted her blade upwards and hit the head. The weapon was yanked from the monk’s hand to land behind her in the mud as she struck a second in the temple with her pommel. The monk’s eyes rolled back as he stumbled to his knees. Her next strike the tip of her blade cut through robes and along the chest of the third. She felt the steel bouncing along ribs before she drove her knee into the jaw of the second man. Blood and teeth burst from his mouth as he fell back. Dazed he couldn’t get up before two corpses fell atop him.

Riona paused long enough to smash her heel down on the bridge of his nose. His head bounced, and whether dead or unconscious, Riona couldn’t bring herself to care. She wiped the back of her hand across her nose and looked at the chaos about her.

Getting to his feet, Tancred shoved his sword into a zealot’s side. It caught in the man’s ribs and he was forced to abandon his weapon, and quickly threw a fist that hit another man’s eye.

The head of an axe struck Tancred’s gut, and doubled him over. Riona lunged at his attacker, but was tackled from the side. She drove her elbow against the monk’s ear, then scrambled out from under him. Her boot soon crashed onto his throat, and the man grasped at it, unable to breath. Riona turned in time to see the axe come down on the back of Tancred’s neck. Blood spurted from the impact and his body went limp immediately. A second strike took his head off in a gush of crimson and Riona let out a shout, while her free hand shot forward.

Cold spread from her fingers to her hand, and branches shot up from the earth and into the executioner’s gut. Throwing her hand out wide, the branches burst from his stomach. Entrails spilled to the ground as the branches impaled others around him. The cold though had reached her wrist. Flexing her fingers, Riona didn’t have time to rest, and turned to catch a strike aimed at her shoulder.

One of the other warriors was pulled away from the others. The man screamed as he was dragged over bodies, his sword flailed at the monk holding him. A planted foot trapped his blade against the ground as Riona slammed her blade forward and through the face of another zealot. She had to kick the twitching corpse off, brain falling in bloody globs as she hacked her way through the crowd.

An axe rose and fell, again and again on the fallen warrior’s elbow. He screamed as the mail began to snap, as blood seeped through gambeson and the links. Riona threw her hand out, and men around her grasped at their faces as a milky film filled their eyes. Blind, they were easy to cut through, but the fallen warrior was grasping at the stump of his arm as a club smashed into his face. Again, and again, until even his helmet cracked and his skull caved.

Riona’s eyes widened at the sight of a second man who died for her. The brief instance of guilt snapped under a torrent of rage as she launched herself to the next monk.

Maetheld’s roar of fury sounded over the crash of metal and sundering of flesh. Her blade sprayed blood around her as she cut and hacked into her foes. Ulfred slammed his axe into a man’s skull, split it in two before a club hit his shoulder and forced him to release the weapon. He turned and bore the man to the ground, curled fists striking again and again. The other warrior had his shield with both hands, smashed it into zealots and knocked them to the ground.

“The crows feast well tonight,” Riona shouted before she ducked a wide swing at her head. The axe struck another monk in the chest, and the witch rose with the point of her blade to slam it up under the zealot’s chin and into his skull. A sharp pull had the blade free with a torrent of blood.

Blood smeared over her face, Riona looked to the gates. More of the bastards were still coming. Flexing her fingers she shot out her hand again, and the cold jolted up to her shoulder. Thunder roared around them as crows descended from the skies. They let out their cries as the monks and Saxons alike stared upwards at the diving swarm.

Beak and talon tore into flesh and the monks flailed and dropped their weapons to stop the assault. Not one of the Saxons were touched.

“Push them back,” Maetheld shouted to her two remaining warriors and lunged forward, leading with her shield. Ulfred charged forward with his axe, and took a zealot’s head as his comrade stabbed another in the throat.

Behind them, Riona flexed her fingers, and looked down to see the black creeping up her skin from under her bracers. She closed her eyes a moment, breathing slow, and tried to push back the effects of the magic while the sounds battle filled her ears. She shut it all out in her attempts to recover.

“Look up,” a familiar voice whispered in her mind.

Pain flared through her shoulder and Riona let out a scream as her eyes snapped open. An arrow had punched through her mail and into her flesh. She saw an archer standing upon one of their platforms. His face was torn and bleeding and one eye had been plucked out but he was already nocking another arrow while his comrades were hacked down by the three standing warriors.

“Shit,” she muttered in Gaelic, and started to move towards the ladder that led up, already muttering another spell, though each word caused the cold to seep further along her shoulder. The pain in her shoulder dulled to a harsh ache.

Rion threw her hand out, and the arrow tilted in her flesh. SHe grit her teeth, and let the magic flow out from her fingers as the archer released. The arrow slammed into her chest just as the cold reached it and Riona stumbled back. The flame crow she’d thrown hit the man’s face, sent him tumbling back over the wall and into the vines that had grown up the wall.

The coppery taste of blood in her mouth, Riona winced as she looked down at the two shafts protruding from her. She spat blood and almost laughed as she fell to her knees. Blood bubbled around the arrow in her chest, and frothed from her lips in pink as she sat on her heels. Before her the last of the zealots were being cut down, but she couldn’t see if any had let fear break their hatred, or if they all died at the walls of this village they had meant to defile.

The unnatural cold kept her from feeling too much pain, kept her heart from pounding as she sat there amid the gore and brutalized corpses. It was hard to draw breath; each inhale and exhale watery. She coughed, and blood spattered in front of her. Looking up she saw Maetheld towards her, eyes wide as she shouted to the other warriors. Something about Aedwen.

A cry caught her attention and she looked up to see a raven perched upon the wall. Its head flicked to the side, stared at her.

“Your task is not yet done,” the bird told her, and Riona almost laughed again but coughed instead.

“Sure fucking feels like it is,” she said.

“It is not. Get to the lake,” the bird spoke into her mind with the voice of another. Riona frowned at it, before its wings spread, and it launched up to the sky.

Riona watched its ascent, as did Maetheld, as she knelt next to her. Then Riona fell forward, scarcely feeling the hands that caught her.

><><

Aedwen had seen death many times through her years. Often peacefully though sometimes from the result of violence. She had never seen it delivered though, save for once, with Mildreth.

Now she listened to it through the walls of her home. She had a pot of boiling wine over the fire, and was preparing poultices as she cut strips of linen, trying to ignore the screams and the crash of metal. It was a cacophony, and it ate at her sanity.

Then came the screech of crows, and Aedwen paused in her work to stare at the doorway. It wasn’t long before all was silent save the crackle of her fire. The silence consumed her thoughts as she stared, and waited to know what exactly that silence was the herald of.

Then came the heavy knock on her door that pulled a yelp from Aedwen. Letting out her breath, she moved quickly across the room, but the door was already opening. Ulfred stood in the frame, an axe rested over one shoulder, his other hand fell to the side, fingers flexing.

Injury to the wrist Aedwen immediately thought.

“Witch needs you. Now. Get your things,” the warrior said and Aedwen felt an icy hand clench her heart. Bile rose in her throat even as she turned to find her satchel, nearly knocked a few jars over in her haste.

Her breath came in short gasps, and she knew she had to stop to collect herself. But if she stopped, Riona might die. She barely had the strap of her satchel over her head when she pushed past Ulfred and ran as fast as she could along the path of her village. Past barricades it seemed hadn’t been used, not a sign of violence until she turned one corner and saw the gate.

The gate splattered with blood, and the mounds of corpses in once white robes, impossible to even begin counting. Her eyes though, were pulled to Maetheld, who knelt beside a woman on her back. A woman with dark red hair bound into a tight braid. Even from here Aedwen could see the arrows jutting from her.

“NO!”

The scream tore at her throat as she sped up. Her vision blurred from tears as she fell to her knees beside Riona. She tried to concentrate, to ply her trade, but she could only look at the pink fluids frothing from Riona’s mouth. She closed her eyes a moment, and took solace in that she had seen breath still pushing.

“Aedwen, I’m sorry,” Maetheld said, one of her hands rested beneath Riona’s head.

“She’s not dead yet,” Aedwen said, and glanced around as she pulled off her satchel. She’d watched Mildreth die, she would not watch Riona do the same.

“Where’s Tancred? Oswin?” Aedwen asked.

“Dead,” Maetheld said, before taking a deep breath. Aedwen could only nod as she took out her knife and a thin set of forceps. She glanced only once to Riona’s face.

“I’m sorry, this will hurt,” she said to the unconscious woman, and hoped she would stay unconscious.

Leaning down, she began to cut into the flesh, parted it cleanly from where the arrowhead had punched into Riona’s shoulder. She pushed the forcepts into Riona’s flesh and began to slowly pull the arrow out as Maetheld watched. Aedwen’s hands were steady, but her heart pounded as she finally drew the arrow free, blood immediately flowed upwards through the links of her mail.

“I’ll need your help with her armour once this arrow is out,” Aedwen said to Maetheld as she tossed the arrow away and immediately went to repeat the process with the second. She was slower this time, afraid to tear more tissue of her lung. But, she had to risk it.

Soon the second arrow was free.

“Alright now, quickly,” Aedwen said, and Maetheld lifted Riona off the ground enough for Aedwen to pull off the woman’s mail.

Grunts spilled from Aedwen as she pulled, and struggled even with Maetheld pushing upwards from below. Eventually, though, it came off to land in the mud, and Aedwen found the gambeson beneath far easier.

“Lay her back down,” Aedwen said as she shuffled up beside her lover, and dug into her satchel.

Maetheld did as she was told, gentle in laying the witch flat upon the ground. Aedwen found the reed she was looking for and set it upon Riona’s stomach and took up her knife. With a single cut she opened Riona’s tunic and placed the point of her knife against her lover’s chest.

“Christ... Morrigan... someone give her the strength she needs for this,” Aedwen said, and leaned into the knife. The steel pushed through skin, and between ribs until she felt it break into the cavity within. She moved the blade just enough to make her opening large enough for the reed.

Pulling the knife free, she grabbed the reed and placed it against the opening. Gingerly, she began to push it inwards. Once she felt it enter the cavity, she wrapped her lips around one end of the reed and began to suck until she tasted the bitter flavour of blood. Pulling back she spat it out, and went back to the reed. Again, and again, until Riona’s breathing became easier.

“Will she live?” Maetheld asked.

“God willing. There is more yet to do,” Aedwen said, and sighed. “Get some others, we’ll use the cart to get her back to my home. Out of the rain.”

><><

The world was that of mist. It swirled around her, and hid anything beyond her hand. Riona took a few measured steps, blade in hand as she tried to find any form of bearing. The dew coating the dark grass beneath her feet soaked into her boots until she felt it against her skin.

A raven’s call had the witch spinning, sword at the ready.

The mists parted in front of her, and revealed a mountain of bones. The eyeless sockets of skulls peered out from tangles of fleshless limbs and ribs as the mist continued to peel back until Riona could see the woman descending from the summit barefoot.

Pale skinned and white eyed, she was clad in black robes that swirled around her wrists and legs. Her hair streamed black as the darkest night. Behind her, silent ravens watched Riona, perched on bone and tree branch that were only now revealed.

“My queen,” Riona said, and fell to her knees, unable to look away.

“Your task is not yet done,” The Morrigan said, her voice echoed by two others within the mists.

“I know my queen. But, I am weary. I need respite,” Riona said, and her Goddess stopped at the base of the mountain of bone.

“In death there will be respite,” a voice said at her left.

“Find solace in the darkness,” a voice said at her right.

“Your hunt, Riona, you have known was not to be taken lightly. Go to the lake, go into the mists. Your quarry awaits,” the Morrigan said with just one voice this time.

Riona frowned as she felt heat at her feet, in her fingertips. She looked down but still saw only the grass. The warmth though spread through her.

“Your task is not yet done. The journey will heal you,” the Morrigan said, and Riona looked up to her only to see a wooden ceiling. She blinked, turned her head to see familiar walls, and felt a bed against her bare back.

Sitting up, she groaned as she looked around the firelit room of Aedwen’s home.

“No, no no no, lay back down,” the healer said, scurrying over from wherever she’d been, a gentle hand settled against Riona’s back as Aedwen eased her down to lay once more.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, before she noticed that she was naked. It took a few heartbeats to find her clothes carefully folded off to the side. They looked as if they’d been cleaned as well.

“A little more than a day. It’s the afternoon. But you need rest, that arrow pierced your lung,” Aedwen said, and Riona sighed.

“I cannot afford the rest, I will heal. You’ve seen that. I must go,” Riona said and her lover simply shook her head.

“You cannot go. You still have a hole in your chest that’s not healed. Witch or not, you still need rest before you go anywhere,” Aedwen said as she pulled up a stool to sit beside Riona. She held out a clay cup, guiding it to Riona’s lips.

A hand behind the witch’s head helped her sip at the warm mulled wine that held a hint of cinnamon. Where had Aedwen managed to get that? As the cup was pulled away, Aedwen used a cloth to wipe away a small dribble from Riona’s chin.

“I will heal, but I cannot stay. My task is not yet done,” Riona said.

“That hunt you mentioned before?” Aedwen asked, and Riona answered with a simple nod.

“Very well. Well then I’m going with you, and we don’t leave until the morning,” Aedwen said and rose to her feet, until Riona caught her hand.

The healer paused, and looked down as Riona ran her thumb across the other woman’s knuckles. A soft caress without words. The meaning was clear enough though, and Aedwen shook her head as tears threatened to flow free.

Damn her own heart, why couldn’t the arrow have pieced that instead?

“I must go alone. There are others who need you,” Riona said and Aedwen fell back to the stool, tears cut a stream along her cheeks.

“Can I convince you to stay until morning?” Aedwen asked, and Riona shook her head again.

“Someday I will return. Perhaps in a week, perhaps when we are old and gray and you have found love again,” Riona said.

“Don’t,” Aedwen started and took a breath. She looked upwards for a moment, at her own ceiling. Her hand ran over the tears, brushed them away before her gaze fell again. “Don’t make a promise you cannot keep.”

“Then perhaps in a world beyond this one,” Riona said with a smile.

“Perhaps,” Aedwen said, and managed a smile of her own. She clasped both hands over Riona’s, the one whose thumb still stroked her.

“If you wish though, you can help me get to the lake. Where you found me. That is where I must go. The Lake Maidens will guide me from there,” Riona said, and Aedwen closed her eyes a moment.

Watching, Riona hoped she did not shatter the young healer’s heart, but she feared she might have. Eventually though, Aedwen nodded and rose.

“I’ll get the cart at least. Make the journey there easier,” Aedwen said as she let Riona’s hand slip from her own.

><><

Aedwen watched the forest pass them by as the pony’s hooves clopped upon the path. Nestled next to Riona in the back of the cart, the two let the journey pass in silence, while Maetheld guided the cart towards the lake without a word.

Spots of sun ran over them as their journey took them back to where they’d met. As they passed the meadow that Aedwen had discovered, she spotted a fox running alongside the cart. Its orange fur flashed between the trees and undergrowth.

The animal stopped, though, when the cart emerged from the treeline and came to the shore of the lake. To Aedwen’s surprise, there was a boat pushed up onto the rocks. A thick mist hovered over the lake, strange for the afternoon. Maetheld brought the cart to a stop, a few pebbles scattering along the shoreline from the pony’s hooves.

“Help me into the boat,” Riona grunted as she forced herself to sit.

Climbing down off the front of the cart, Maetheld moved to the back to help Aedwen pull Riona off. The witch grunted with pain, but managed to get her feet under her. With the help of the other two women she managed to get across the shore to the boat, and climbed in one leg at a time.

As Riona sat, Aedwen went back to get her armour and sword. Maetheld looked down at Riona.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Why? I brought them upon you. I should be thanking you,” Riona said.

“You’ve helped avenge my daughter. You’ve helped right a wrong. May the Morrigan go with you,” Maetheld said as Aedwen came back with Riona’s belongings.

“May God give you peace Maetheld,” Riona said while Aedwen laid the armour and sword in front of the witch.

Maetheld nodded and turned to Aedwen.

“I’ll take the cart into the treeline. Take the time you need,” she said, and put a tired hand on Aedwen’s shoulder before she moved back to the pony and climbed up onto the cart.

The two women by the boat watched the cart amble off the shoreline, listening to the rocks shuffling beneath the pony’s hooves and the wheels as it rolled out of sight behind the trees. The two turned their eyes towards each other then.

“Here we are, as we began,” Riona said with a small smile.

“I’ll miss you,” Aedwen said softly.

“And I you. We shall see each other again, some day,” Riona said.

“So you’ve said. In this life, or the next,” Aedwen said and moved out until she felt the water roll over her shoes, splashing against her calves. She grasped the edge of the boat and leaned inwards.

Riona met her, and their lips caressed one last time. When they broke, the taste of the other lingered, and neither could bring a smile forth. They stared, searched for words, but were unable to find any for long moments.

“I could have loved you,” Aedwen finally said, and Riona met her gaze.

“I know. But you have a kind heart beneath your pain. A lot of love left to give this world. Don’t give up on it. Not for me,” Riona said.

“No. No you’ve shown me that. I have hope again, a flicker it may be,” Aedwen said.

“Nurse that. Fan it. There is always hope,” Riona said.

Aedwen began to push the boat out from the shore. The bottom slid over the rocks while the waters rose up to Aedwen’s knees. Her dress clung to her legs as she pushed until the water was up to her thighs. She released the boat, let it float out towards the centre of the lake.

“Goodbye Riona.”

The witch nodded, and finally let herself smile.

“Goodbye Aedwen,” she called back as the boat began to enter the mists.

Aedwen stood there, water lapping around her thighs, and watched the boat start to vanish. She caught sight of a naked woman in the waters, beautiful and pale. The lake maiden took hold of the side of the boat to pull it deeper still into the mist.

Too soon though, Riona’s face vanished, and the boat carrying her was gone from sight.

Aedwen stood there a moment, and stared out into the lake, the wind catching her hair as she watched.

Turning, Aedwen walked back to the shore, pushed through the water. Upon the rocks she spotted a raven, and she frowned as it stared at her, something clutched in its beak. Tilting her head Aedwen walked up to the bird who waited until she was nearly upon it. Only then did it drop what it was carrying and fly off.

Aedwen put a hand to her lips as she saw it and spun back to the lake. Sunlight glistened off the faintly rippling waters, and the trees on the far shore swayed gently.

From the woodline, the fox watched as Aedwen bent to pick up what was being left to her.

A carefully pressed flower, with violet petals.

END


End file.
